


you know i'm such a fool for you

by qthedoor



Category: She's the Man (2006)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Post-Movie, Slow Burn, because they had so much potential that needs to be explored, majority Olivia's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthedoor/pseuds/qthedoor
Summary: In secret, her heart danced like the flames of a warm campfire. Warm and cozy, but burning with a fervor that Olivia didn't know how to tamp out.
Relationships: Viola Hastings/Olivia Lennox, side Viola Hastings/Duke Orsino
Comments: 61
Kudos: 171





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be less exposition in later chapters.

Olivia stared down into the white oval of the bathroom sink, following the trail of tiny black “tick” lines that rested around the counter like fine sprinkles.

She spat the rest of the toothpaste water out of her mouth, and the tiny hairs flit around the basin to eventually get swallowed by the drain. Olivia watched with satisfaction before taking a tissue and wiping the rest with the care and slight snobbish disgust of a cultivated Junior League debutante.

Certain high society behavior was hard to shake, no matter how many times she tagged along with the likes of Viola and her posse.

Leaning against her dorm room's bathroom counter, she wondered idly if she were to ask Sebastian one more time to clean up the sink after he shaved in her bathroom, he’d finally listen.

They’d been together for months now, and she still found that dating Sebastian- the real Sebastian- didn’t hold many differences from her last serious relationship with the mayor's son, Josh.

Josh was the strapping youngest son of a family friend who, despite being a five years older than her, was the boy Olivia’s parents had chosen to set her up with.

She’d liked him.

What wasn't to like about him?

He’d been dreamy and sweet. Sometimes inattentive, but that wasn't necessarily unknown territory for her. She'd especially appreciated his ability to make a fool of himself for a joke. What started as a new and exciting, butterfly-inducing romance petered off into a bored Olivia. 

Soon after, he broke up with her (“It’s not you, it’s me, Liv”) to save face in front of Olivia’s and his parents. Unsurprisingly, her mother hadn't been pleased, and the whole school had been buzzing about the break up the very next week.

She’d begun to have whispers of concerns after Josh.

However, the concerns had gone out the window, along with her inhibitions, after crashing into a certain green-eyed boy. At the time, her attraction to a boy like Sebastian had come completely from left field, but there was something about their interactions. They'd talk and she'd feel like the whole world was holding its breath until the invisible tether between them broke. She couldn’t help the fact that she was so _taken_ by this boy, and it was only enhanced by how relieved she was that she was feeling this way about someone. 

She’d instantly wanted him, and she’d figured that if he was like every other boy then it shouldn’t take much to make it happen.

The problem was that Sebastian _hadn't_ looked at her as an option. He'd spoken to her so sincerely and transparently with no ulterior motive... all of the time. It made her both elated and tortured her.

For a time, Olivia had briefly worried that he was secretly into other boys rather than her due to how in touch he was with his feminine side and how uninterested he was in her flirting, but those thoughts dashed after hearing about his string of ex-girlfriends through the school grapevine.

Thinking about it now brought a bitter laugh to her lips. It seemed she’d been right in a sense about the liking boys thing with how Viola appeared to just _adore_ Duke.

Olivia heard the slam of the dormitory door.

“Honey, I’m home!’ Maria, Olivia’s roommate, singsonged from their room, "I’m covering my eyes, and by the time I open them, I don’t want to see any naked Sebastian’s!”

Olivia smirked and walked into the bedroom to lean on the wall outside of the bathroom.

“You’re in luck. He just left. Something about cleaning Ms. Harold’s pool.”

Maria made a disgusted noise, “On a Sunday morning? Tough.”

Olivia just hummed in agreement as she strode over to her twin bed and automatically started neatly folding her laundry.

Sebastian’s pool cleaning job was a punishment from his parents for going to London with his band without telling them. It seemed pretty merciful to Olivia, who thinks her family might’ve disowned her if she’d done something like that. The privilege of divorced parents?

After the Cornwall vs Illyria catastrophe, everything sped by Olivia faster than she could manage. Right away, Olivia found herself and Sebastian- the real Sebastian- in a steady relationship. The transition from a cross-dressing Viola to her real twin brother had been so expected of her that she’d just...gone with it.They weren’t the only new couple after the Cornwall game, however, as Viola fell into Duke’s arms as fast as she could flick her very long brunette hair over one shoulder.

Olivia’s face scrunched as she plucked a pair of boy’s boxers from her twisted up sheets. She was scared to put them anywhere near her nose, even if they were her boyfriend’s.

“Olivia!” Maria had clearly spotted the article of clothing pinched between her fingers. “You bad girl.”

Before Olivia could think of a response, Maria snatched the boxers from her.

"Is he not wearing underwear to clean Ms. What's Her Face's pool?" She feigned a scandalized gasp and held back her laughter.

"Of course he is. He just started keeping extra here." She knew she should probably feel sheepish, but her mind was too preoccupied today with thoughts of other things.

Maria teasingly and held it up against her jean-clad legs. She swished them back and forth.

“Look, I’m Viola,” Maria giggled at her joke, but when she looked up, Olivia didn’t look so amused.

Embarrassed, and discomfort briefly forgotten, the blonde girl yanked the boxers away from her friend’s crotch and wheeled away unceremoniously.

“That’s not funny.” Olivia’s voice was flat.

“Geez, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d get so upset about it.”

“Yeah, well-“ Olivia gave a chuckle that was anything but joyful.

Maria eased herself down on Olivia’s bed and reached out to stop the girl’s furious tidying. Olivia drew back from the touch.

“Liv,” the girl's voice took on a softer quality that Olivia wasn't used to hearing from her roommate, “I know the whole situation was crazy with Sebastian and Viola. Do you want to talk-“

Olivia felt heat creep up her neck. “Why would I need to talk about it?”

An edge of defensiveness could be heard in her voice that didn't help her case.

Maria just crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow saying, "I mean, it's kind of something that someone should process, probably."

Olivia was thrown off by her friend's intuitiveness, but admitting to anything was out of the question.

“I mean, come on, Maria," Olivia scoffed, "I have Sebastian now- like the real one.And he has a beautiful mind. He writes these poems and songs and- you know that I loved them when Viola was pretending to be him so it all makes sense. And I’m so,” she felt a big, pageant grin stretch over her perfect teeth, “happy. With him- now that I have him.”

Maria studied her, and Olivia stared back.

“That was a moving speech. Although I wouldn’t give Edgar Allen Poe that much credit,” Maria chortled, using her favorite nickname for Sebastian.

Olivia sighed, defeated, and went back to her cleaning.

“Well, I would,” Olivia grumbled back pathetically.

Maria made some kind of sound and clapped her hands together.

“Okay, well just know you can always talk to me cause-“ Maria’s voice dipped into a conspiratorial whisper, “I know that if I was the one who found out I’d been totally mooning over a _girl_ for a couple of months, I just wouldn’t know how to feel.” Maria crossed her arms and furrowed her brow in a patronizing manner and Olivia wanted to punch it off her face.

She really had been spending too much time with Viola.

Maria was still talking, “I don’t know if I could look at Viola the same without seeing the cross-dressing.”

Well, Olivia couldn’t agree. It was easy to forget there was a time when Viola wasn’t Viola. Too easy in fact. Frankly, it made much more sense, and if she was being honest with herself, Olivia would admit Viola’s feminine qualities had always been her eyes focus. On top of that even, Viola hadn’t actually tried to alter much of her true personality minus some “guy stuff” she tried to implement for damage control. And Olivia had just found it cute.

“Like, now that I know Viola, she’s like my sister. We’re soul sisters; she’s one of us, you know?” Maria continued, apparently happy to keep sharing her unspoken thoughts from the drama all those months ago, “so I don’t know maybe you guys should have a talk so you can make it clear that you’re totally not into her and it was a total freak-o thing. Just for clarity’s sake.” She ended with a pleased smile.

Olivia's stomach turned in an unpleasant manner, but she slowly nodded and Maria took it as an invitation to continue. “I think it’d make you feel much better to leave that whole weirdness behind you guys because-" she lowered her voice conspiratorially _again_ , "sometimes I get this vibe from her-“

Olivia stopped nodding and her eyes went to Maria's.

“-that tension that hasn’t disappeared. I don’t know, but it's probably because you guys somehow stayed friends. Whatever it is, you know I’m here for you, right Liv? We can get through this. And, who knows, maybe prince charming is right around the corner and Edgar Allen really isn't for you-”

"You're so right," Olivia found herself grinning again because of course that was her coping response to feeling overwhelmed, "Thank you so much, Maria. I'm so grateful to have a friend like you." Maria gave a satisfied smile. "I just think I need to reevaluate a few things. Maybe you're right about needing to talk to Viola..."

"I am!" Maria pat her head and situated herself on her own twin bed, happily opening a PopStar magazine with Jesse Mccartney's face on the front cover.

The conversation apparently over, Olivia stood suspended until Maria glanced expectedly at her. Olivia's fingers fiddled with the boxers and the brunette took pity on her blonde friend who looked like she was questioning her entire existence in that moment.

“Well? What’re you waiting for? Go talk to Viola.”

“What, now?” Olivia's eyes widened in fear at the prospect of actually addressing something she thought of as a source of shame.

“Yes!”

Flustered, Olivia smoothed out her hair and double checked what she'd put on this morning. Then, she grabbed her bag and a sweater. 

"Woah, honey. You've got-" Maria pointed to the side of her own neck, and Olivia's hand flew up to cover the space.

Maria shook her head as Olivia's beet red face fled into the bathroom to cover up the hickey with makeup.

_Honestly, Olivia was so lucky to have a friend like her._


	2. not one chin hair

It wasn't hard to find Viola. The girl was usually in her dorm, on the field, causing trouble with Duke, or with Olivia herself. For a second, Olivia worried it might be one of those days that Viola was out with her Cornwall friends, Paul, Kia, and Yvonne, before remembering Viola mentioned a Sunday morning impromptu practice.

That's how she found herself sitting on the bleachers, watching varsity soccer wrap up their practice. The sun was out and shining, but the air was cold and crisp. Olivia wrapped her sweater taut and tugged the sleeves over her hands.

Her eyes tracked the brunette girl who was currently slapping Duke's behind and laughing animatedly with her teammates. Viola was in her element. No matter what, Olivia's eyes always magnetized to the fluid movements of the girl. Viola flicked her foot expertly, swiveled her way past boys twice her size and wasn't afraid to body them viciously if they bodied her.

And if Olivia was sitting there admiring more than just Viola's soccer skills, then, well, no one had to know. She couldn't be blamed for the fact that Viola finally got Illyria soccer gear that wasn't just male size hand-me-downs but actually fit her lithe body and, yeah, maybe it made her ass and legs look great. It was normal for a female to compare with another female's body. Olivia had already been taught to be aware and observant from a young age. Sure it was because her mother wanted her to notice any or all imperfections that may exist (whether it be in herself or other girls), but still.

Just then, Viola's laugh rung out from the field. Her head was tilting back to the sky, ponytail streaming down behind her. Olivia sighed and rested her cheek on her hand.

In the distance, Toby tapped Viola's shoulder and pointed towards the bleachers where Olivia sat. Once Viola averted her smile to that spot, her already beaming expression lit up tenfold, much to her teammates' amusement. Viola swung her arm broadly in some semblance of a wave, but it was so _Viola_ that it made Olivia giggle.

She raised her hand to give a small wave before bringing it to prop up her growing smile. She had to admit, it felt good to be on the receiving end of such a public display of excitement over her presence.

Not too soon after that, the practice seemed to have come to an end.

"Hi!" said a slightly panting, slightly glistening with sweat Viola. 

"Hey!"

Viola rested her arms on the metal bar of the bleachers and spread them in a prideful manner. "What brings you to my humble home?"

Right away, Olivia could tell Viola was in a very good mood, and that usually meant she could take the conversation in whatever liberal direction she pleased.

"Oh, you know. I had some free time. Also thought I'd see where you spend all of your time when I'm stuck with the kids." Olivia sniffed, but her grin broke through when Viola seamlessly continued the joke.

"Ugh, woman, I said I'd take them on Tuesday."

Seeing an opportunity, Olivia straightened her back, calloused her gaze, crossed her arms, and looked down at Viola with the most unimpressed expression she could pull. At that moment, she was the spitting image of Arabella Lennox.

"You're right, you're right," Viola held up her hands Olivia noticed how Viola's eyes sparkled when she smiled back, "I'll shut up. But, hey, while you're here, would you like a tour?"

"Sure-?"

"This is my favorite blade of grass."

Olivia couldn't hold back her laughter then when she watched Viola point at a random part of the soccer field, and that's how Duke found them when he came jogging up behind Viola.

"Viola, what in the world are you doing," was his way of greeting. The phrase wasn't an uncommon one.

"Looking for my contact?" She looked up and squinted. She really didn't miss a beat.

He scratched his head, "You don't wear glasses?" It came out as much of a question.

"You're right, thank you for reminding me," She popped back up, patted Duke on the head, and he looked helplessly up at Olivia, but Olivia just laughed.

"O-kay? Hi, Olivia." He held up a hand in greeting, still so awkward when talking to her. "What's, uh, going on?"

Unphased by her boyfriend beside her, Viola piped up, "Yeah! I didn't know you'd be coming to this practice."

"Well, I needed some fresh air, and Maria was driving me up the wall when she came back from spending the weekend at her mom's so..." She motioned a "here I am" gesture.

"Oh god, yeah. That girl." Viola made a "crazy" gesture. "I'm so glad you're here, though! You've been cooped up with my brother all weekend, psh for whatever reason. He totally needs to stop hogging you. I've been suffering!"

Olivia clenched her shoulders up in a way that could pass as a shrug and glanced at Duke, "Well, I'm not some toy for you two to fight over, so I'm sure you'll be fine." She wasn't sure where the edge in her voice came from, she'd been happy to hear that Viola wanted to spend time with her.

Viola didn't notice her slight awkwardness. Actually, scratch that, Olivia Lennox didn't do awkward. The closest to awkward she could get was a demure look of discomfort. Thrown off her air of confidence, so to say. (Something that had been happening more and more since Viola entered her life. The girl was a human whirlwind: never predictable and non-linear.)

"You're definitely not a toy, Olivia," Viola said, her eyes softening considerably, and Olivia blinked at how quickly Viola had become so serious and earnest in her cadence. As quickly as it had arrived, though, did Viola's somberness leave to be replaced with her upbeat nature, "Okay, let me just get my stuff, and we'll go do something fun to celebrate your freedom from my dear brother."

Olivia started to gather her belongings in preparation to leave.

"Can I join?" The blonde fought back an unwarranted frown at the boy who turned soft in the face of pretty girls.

"Sorry, Duke," Viola pat his shoulder and whispered-yelled, "Girl stuff."

"Oh right, yeah, girl stuff. I've got stuff too." Duke shrugged her off like he hadn't been doing an impression of a Golden Retriever two seconds before.

" _Stuff,_ " Viola mocked him.

"Hastings! Orsino! Get over here! No one gets out of final stretches," yelled the bald Illyria coach in his strong British accent. Olivia was really intimidated by him and shooed Duke and Viola away from her.

The two continued bickering as they jogged back to the cluster of players in the middle of the field.

Some time later-during which Olivia tried to avoid looking at the players stretching -Viola was stubbornly trying to climb over the bleacher's railing instead of going around the other side to the stairs like a normal person. It was childish and looked funny for a fully grown eighteen year old girl to be doing. Especially one who looked like she should be graceful, but had no interest in being so.

Olivia stepped forward in hopes to maybe help, "Do you-"

With a tiny squeak, Viola tumbled forward and crashed right into the blonde girl with only her bag to break their fall. Olivia let out a little groan as the corner of one of her books dug into her back, and her head hit the metallic floor of the bleachers.

She needed to start wearing protective pads around this girl.

Viola gawked down at her, propping herself up on either side of Olivia so she could see if the other girl was alright.

"Olivia! Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay? I'm such a lumbering idiot-" Carefully, she encouraged Olivia to lift her head. When she complied, Olivia felt a soft hand checking for injuries until it brushed away strands of hair that'd fallen in her face during their fall. For how abrasive Viola's persona could be, there was always that ever-present soft nature about her.

"Nice one, Hastings." some boy snickered from somewhere down on the field.

Viola's ponytail whipped near Olivia's face as she turned her head to give her teammate a piece of her mind.

"I'm okay. I probably should've saw that coming, honestly." Olivia said, and Viola's eyes were back on hers at the sound of her voice. She didn't know whether it was the fact that Viola's face was so close or the fact that she had her whole weight on her when her voice came out tight.

"Yeah, we make a habit of crashing and falling over each other." They were still so close and Viola was smiling at her now. Olivia had no idea why Viola hadn't moved off of her yet.

Wolf whistles cut through the air and Olivia's awareness of the the players walking past became unavoidable. 

Duke's voice could be heard yards away from them. Olivia thinks he was saying something like, "cut it out" in a sharp tone.

Viola scrambled to her feet and tried to pass it off like nothing had happened.

Olivia huffed, eyes to the sky, and let her head drop back down with a thud.

They walked back to Viola's dorm, catching up on what they'd been doing in each other's absence. Olivia walked calmly with her books in her arms while Viola was next to her, hopping from low brick walls and wobbling back and forth.

"I've just been surrounded by way too much testosterone. They might think of me as "one of the guys", which is nice and all, but pretty soon there's gonna be some irreversible damage! Like, I think I found a chin hair the other day while I was plucking my eyebrows. And what if I start to walk and smell like a guy permanently!"

Olivia looked at Viola's smooth skin and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't think that's possible."

"A chin hair, Olivia!" she threw her hands up," What if my body gets confused, and I start to grow a beard!"

"Viola," Olivia chuckled, "That's not how human biology works."

"Well, my point is," Viola's sucked in a dramatic breath like she was going to continue her tirade. She lifted her hands, maybe to assist her point, but her eyes caught on one of her hands near her face, "I need a manicure. My nail beds are looking rough."

" _That_ was your point?"

Viola grinned at her, clearly impish over making her laugh, "Yes. No, but really. Let me know if you want to go to the salon with me."

"Sure." The blonde shook her head, laughing and adjusted the books in her arms.

"I don't really know how you do it," Olivia continued from before they'd ventured off-topic, "I've never been able to have many close guy friends. Like real ones."

"How come?"

Sucking in a big breath, Olivia looked at the sky contemplatively. "I don't know. They always expect something. Like I couldn't be just friends with them; there needed to be something romantic. I'm kind of jealous of your "one of the guys" ability."

There was a pause and then-

"Probably the only guy I've never felt that weird comfortable energy with was-" she cleared her throat," well, you."

"Me," Viola laughed nervously. Olivia watched her carefully as she nearly crossed one foot over the other. "It must have been my lack of guy."

"Yeah, maybe. It had just been kind of nice, you know. Refreshing."

Viola voiced her understanding, and a silence fell over the pair.

Viola stepped down from the wall to walk at an equal footing with Olivia.

The wind blew. It rustled the leaves of the trees around them, but Olivia didn't feel cold with the sun shining and the girl beside her occasionally brushing her arm against Olivia's.

"Viola," green eyes found hers, "I need to tell you something."

Olivia's stomach churned with nerves, but her mouth kept going when Viola nodded.

"I've been thinking."

Viola nodded earnestly, "That's good."

Olivia laughed, and the knot in her stomach loosened, as usual with the other girl. "Shut up."

They walked a little further.

"Thinking about my relationship with your brother."

"Aw, yes."

"I've been thinking of ending things," she paused and then clarified, "With him."

Viola's mouth opened in an "o" shape, and Olivia briefly wondered how she gets her eyebrows to go so high.

"Oh," she coughed, and for as high as her eyebrows were one moment, the next she was frowning hard, "I just thought- Are you not super-duper into him anymore? Did he do something? "

"No, nothing like that," Olivia's response was immediate.

"-I'll beat him up; trust me, I can. It's been proven many times."

"I know you can," Olivia chuckled and couldn't help but smile at Viola.

"So, what's the matter then?"

"In theory, I thought we'd work. But I guess not in practice," Olivia admired how a strand of hair came loose from Viola's ponytail and perfectly framed her face before she spoke again, "as much as I thought it would."

When Viola just blinked at her owlishly, disappointment settled in her stomach.

"I just thought I'd let you know."

"Jesus, when I said freedom from my brother, I didn't mean _this_." Viola was doing that thing where she kind of talked to herself.

Olivia stepped a little farther away from Viola. When Viola noticed, she seemed to find her voice again. She told Olivia that she deserved better anyway and that there were no hard feelings. She'd even protect Olivia from her psycho mother if she tried to go after her for breaking up with her baby boy: " _Lord knows she'll try to persuade you to reconsider. You're the closest thing to a perfect daughter in law. It's kind of a headache to hear all the time, but I can't necessarily argue with her. I can't think of anyone better_."

It'd made Olivia's cheeks flush a shade of unmistakable pink. Viola had a habit of saying sweet things without realizing it.

Then grabbing Olivia's hand, Viola dragged them the rest of the way to her dorm. She loudly proclaimed that they now had to spend the rest of the day watching romcoms and eating ice cream, completely ignoring Olivia when she pointed out that she wasn't heartbroken, never mind the fact that she hadn't even broken up with the boy yet.

She didn't fight Viola too hard, though. No, in secret, her heart danced like the flames of a warm campfire. Warm and cozy, but burning with a fervor that Olivia didn't know how to tamp out.

(Or if she wanted to.)


	3. Olivia's experiment

"What?" Daphne Hastings looked close to tears, "But why? Why would they break up?" 

"It didn't work out," Viola shoveled a pancake dripping with syrup into her mouth, and then said, "Hey, shoun't Sebastian haf to be the one to brea the newf 'o you?" 

Mrs. Hastings cringed at her daughter. "Don't speak with your mouth full, Viola, honestly."

Viola swallowed, but only so she could say, "I thought he would've told you by now." And then more to herself, "How the hell does that boy get out of everything?"

"No, he did not tell me," she sniped, clearly displeased, "Oh, but Olivia was such a good girl." Mrs. Hastings clapped her hands over her mouth, voice high pitched in agony.

"Jeez, she's not dead," Viola mumbled as she stabbed another piece of sausage.

"My grandkids were going to be so beautiful."

Viola nearly chokes on the sausage.

"Mom!" Viola squawked. The image of Olivia pregnant with her brother's baby made her want to bring her whole meal back up. 

Mrs. Hastings waved her hand distractedly. "I know, dear, you and Duke will make beautiful babies too." Viola sputtered on her water this time. "I just have a feeling that Sebastian is going to move on to some punk-dressed girl with tattoos and pink hair. The Lord knows the people he surrounds himself with are less than palatable-"

"Mom!"

"I was so pleased when Olivia Lennox of all girls showed interest in your brother-"

Viola slammed down her fork with a resounding clang that made Mrs. Hastings look up from her distraught state.

"First of all, I'm going to need you to stop talking about Liv as if she isn't an actual person, mkay? She's more than Sebastian's girlfriend. She doesn't exist to fulfill his life," Viola lectured very seriously and waved her knife around for emphasis. "Plus, she is _my friend_. She's one of my closest friends actually, which I'd argue is more important than being Sebastian's girlfriend," Viola snapped, suddenly angry at her mother's fixation on Sebastian and Olivia, "So you can calm down because she's going to be in our lives no matter what. You'd better start thinking of her differently, or we're going to have a problem. You're being rude"

Mrs. Hasting's mouth bobbed open and closed. Viola smiled, self-satisfied in thinking she got through to her thick-headed mother. Honestly, she should have an audience applauding her right now.

"Do not speak to me that way, young lady. And don't you _dare_ accuse me of being _rude._ "

Viola let out a frustrated scream and scraped the chair against the floor in her haste to separate herself from Daphne Hastings.

"Viola Anne Hastings, you get back here!"

Viola nearly turned the color of Illyria's candy apple red when Olivia brushed up against her for a turn to look through the microscope. 

They both stood at their shared desk in chemistry class, dressed in lab coats over their school uniforms. Since Viola no longer had to wear an itchy wig and extra layers of guy clothes, she didn't get overheated during any of her classes anymore. Before, her body temperature would be through the roof, and her face would be flushed red all the time. It'd been really hard to concentrate on anything. No, now she was able to simply wear the skirt and button-down of Illyria, same as Olivia.

So she wasn't sure why she was feeling overheated now.

Viola cleared her throat as casually as possible and ever so slightly leaned back into the blonde a little more. 

Olivia looked at Viola in response to the sound, concern painting her features. She reached a hand out for the small of Viola's lower back, but the brunette jumped and squirmed when it made contact.

"Uh, um." God, she sounded like Duke.

"Viola, are you okay? You're not feeling sick again, I hope," Olivia questioned worriedly.

Viola chuckled anxiously and pushed her clear protective goggles that'd been resting uselessly upon her forehead down over her eyes. The illusion of a barrier helped.

"Yeah, no. Nope, not going to faint, but I felt a bit queasy there not gonna lie. All good now, though," She gave Olivia a painfully platonic pat on the shoulder as the girl in question looked at her weirdly in reply to the gesture.

"Anyway, your turn." Viola promptly shuffled over to the table where Duke stood twirling his pen in boredom, leaving Olivia to watch after her in confusion.

Olivia liked it when Viola made her laugh. Not the polite, hand-covering-mouth laugh that was conditioned in Olivia since the age of four. 

She liked that the girl could make her feel lighter than air and introduced her to uncharted territory where the simple fact remained: Viola's friendship was not conditional. She didn't expect Olivia to act any other way than Olivia was. She took every sentence, every sound, every movement from Olivia with the grace of someone who lived their life with authenticity. Handled it like someone who understood Olivia to her core and was patient in waiting for Olivia to figure out who she was. Who she wanted to be; without forcing anything upon her. 

And understood that they were both awkwardly stumbling their way through this part of adolescence.

It was a priceless thing that Olivia couldn't quite put a name to at the tender age of seventeen. But she knew that it felt like her first breath of fresh air after being underwater for as long as she could remember.

It'd been a few weeks since Olivia had broken up with Sebastian and things had been pretty normal, considering. Sebastian had been upset and his ego was probably a bit more than bruised. She'd hoped he wouldn't completely ice her out, but the boy hadn't contacted her at all, and according to Viola, he wasn't exactly singing her praises these days.

Olivia was just processing how she didn't miss him at all, for having dated him for such a long time.

With her newly single status being known, she'd gotten interested hopefuls, several who'd approached her whenever she was out and about on campus. Whenever a poor boy was unfortunate enough to catch her at a time she was walking with Viola, the brunette girl would tell them to "scram" or "get moving, Buster", and hell if Olivia didn't have to bite back a smile every time.

Now free of girlfriend duties, Olivia had taken the opportunity to form a personal goal, or maybe personal investigation. She'd always excelled exponentially in fields of math and science, so she couldn't help but treat her... preference questioning in the same manner. Perhaps if she handled it like an experiment, she could detach herself enough to the point where she wouldn't mind that she was letting herself think about something _wrong_ and _abnormal._

So, when she and Viola watched their Sunday night TV program, she took note of which lead she found herself looking at more. She let her eyes linger on other girls running the track when she went on her evening jog. When Viola dragged her to football games (because Cornwall and Illyria are too snooty for football apparently), her focus group was supposed to be the football players, but she hadn't put the cheerleaders into the equation. Her eyes lingered on both, but she couldn't deny that the attraction was there for some of the cheerleaders as well.

She had no one to confide in, no one to discuss her results for such an experiment. Maybe in another life she could talk to Viola about her upsetting results, but Viola was ruled out due to her unfortunate involvement in the whole thing. 

The truth of the matter was, and Olivia could not deny it anymore, that throughout the whole experiment, the one constant was Viola. 


	4. salted or buttered?

Olivia sat on Viola’s bed, running her fingers through the owner’s silky hair, sometimes taking separate strands and gingerly placing them on top of each other. Then she'd unfurl them lazily. 

Viola sat beneath her nearly purring at the feeling, and watched some crappy movie that was awarded a giggle every once in a while. Olivia wasn’t paying as much attention and mainly focused on her rhythmic task, smiling whenever Viola would laugh. 

As she drifted further into her thoughts, her fingers started to roam as well. The back of her fingers brushed against the back of Viola’s neck as she weaved a lock of hair. The skin there was soft, and her pointer finger drifted further down towards the material of shirt covering Viola’s shoulder.

Olivia abruptly stopped when she realized what she was doing, sitting there caressing the girl’s skin like a creep. Even if Viola had tilted her head ever so slightly to allow Olivia more access to her skin during her ministrations, it did not mean it was okay.

“What’s wrong?” Viola’s voice came from where she was sitting on the floor.

“My arms got tired,” Olivia said quickly.

Viola got up and Olivia watched as some of her handiwork unraveled smoothly. The glossy body of Viola's hair moved as if it was its own entity. In the back of Olivia's mind, she briefly wondered if she should ask what products Viola used.

The now-standing girl gestured to the floor.

Frowning, Olivia sat herself down where she'd just been, and Viola settled behind her. Her knee knocked against her shoulder. Olivia felt Viola’s fingers start combing through her blonde hair with no hesitation. She first does a single braid down Olivia’s back and then unraveled it to make two “like Anne of Green Gables”.

"Sorry, I don't know how to do French braids or anything fun like that."

The whole time, Olivia sat with bated breathe, watching the screen without seeing much. Eventually, Viola is just running her fingers through her hair aimlessly, rounding her ear and brushing her temple, then the back of her scalp.

It was a platonic enough activity, but right then it was feeling oddly intimate, as if the pair were finding any reason to touch each other-

Suddenly, Olivia felt a pair of lips brush the back of her neck, soft pads of skin grazing the bone at the top of her spine. Olivia's heart said hello with a little jump. Her skin immediately rose with goosebumps, and she’s pretty sure she stopped breathing. 

In hindsight, she should have known she was screwed right then with that visceral reaction she had to a simple brush of lips.

With no further explanation, Viola slipped down next to her and looked at the screen. Olivia assumed Viola missed the wide-eyed expression on her face. 

So she kept looking. And looking. Waiting for Viola to look at her and- and what? Give her an explanation?

As she was looking, her eyes slipped down to Viola's lips, and she marveled at how they were just against her own skin.

Honestly, Viola could not be so dense as to not notice Olivia’s poorly concealed bedroom eyes. It was to the point she was starting to think Viola was actively ignoring the thick tension in the room.

At that thought, Olivia swallowed and looked straight ahead again.

After minutes passed by in silence, Olivia and Viola sat side by side, backs straight, staring at the TV. It was awkward in an uncomfortable way. Olivia had no clue what Viola was thinking or feeling. 

In a rush, Viola shot up, startling the blonde.

“We need popcorn! I’ll make some right now.”

Viola had not even finished her sentence before Olivia had said, “Good idea," quick to relieve the tension.

Olivia heard Viola curse from the little kitchenette. She'd apparently been too zealous opening the popcorn box, and the packets had spilled out onto the counter.

Olivia sucked in a deep breath and rubbed the back of her neck.

Unwilling to enter another awkward silence, Olivia spoke up. "You’re antsy tonight,” she teased, hoping to harness some of her usual shrewd confidence.

“Yeah, well,” Cabinets were opened and closed, and rustling could be heard, “just nerves. We have that important game on Monday.”

Olivia chose to accept that excuse, “I understand. But you’ve been training like a maniac. I've seen how much you've improved over the last couple of months, which I didn't know was even possible, by the way. Brewster doesn’t stand a chance.”

She was rewarded with a beaming smile from Viola that appeared whenever Olivia honored anything soccer related, no matter how small.

“You’re right, we’re gonna kick their butts. They’re going to have to hold back their tears. Buttered or lightly salted? Lightly salted: also known as buttered popcorn without the yellow dye.” She waved the buttered popcorn box animatedly. It was a mystery which one Viola preferred.

“Do lightly salted.”

“Awwww, come on!”

“The buttered popcorn is all greasy. I don’t like the feeling on my fingers, and it gets on the remote and everything.”

“Oh, please,” Viola laughed, but started ripping the packet of lightly salted, “I didn’t realize I'm dining with royalty.”

“What? It’s perfectly normal to not want everything to get all filthy. I took a shower earlier.”

“You realize you don't need to take a whole shower just because of popcorn, right?"

Slightly put off, Olivia ignored Viola’s delighted laughter from the other room and crossed her arms to frown at the TV.

When Viola came back in, a full bag of steaming popcorn between two fingers, the visual made her laugh even harder. 

"Don’t worry, Queen Elizabeth, no one is accusing you of not being normal.”

Something about Viola's choice of words made the pit in Olivia's stomach clench uncomfortably. It wasn't often that Viola said something that hit a nerve with Olivia, so when the brunette saw the look on the blonde's face, she panicked and tried to backtrack. "I'm just messing with you, Liv. Your fear of grease couldn't be more adorable." 

A displeased Olivia moved from their shared space to the desk chair with her nose angled high, looking the spitting image of a queen on her throne.

"We can eat salted every night. I don't mind. And if you need to take a shower afterward, then that's perfectly fine. I'll join you!"

Olivia's eyebrow went ever higher. Viola's cheeks flushed.

"I just mean that- we can be wierdos together. I mean- nevermind."

Viola let out a sound of frustration, but Olivia just laughed. The sound was like a bell jingling. Viola felt silly, but the room's atmosphere was lighthearted once again, so she must have said something right.

"Uh huh. By the way, that's Princess Diana, to you," Olivia snipped and plucked the popcorn from Viola's hands.

Of course, she would get stuck at the girl's tennis fundraiser booth at the height of Illyria's hustle and bustle. 

Olivia tried to look as approachable and very not-embarrassed in her chair behind the construction paper-covered table filled with sign up sheets and pamphlets. 

When her mother stuck her in tennis when she was younger, she hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much as she did to continue it into her high school career. Still, if she’d known that she’d have to participate in school fundraising events, she might have passed altogether. 

Probably the worst thing about it was that Illyria didn’t _need_ funding for the girl's tennis team. It was a wealthy school with a wealthy school board, but of course they had to set up things like this. Probably to please parents.

“Oh no. Don’t look now, Liv.”

From the sound of Franny’s warning next to her, Olivia looked up to see slicked back hair and kakis swaggering towards her table.

Olivia only had time to murmur a small, "Oh, god."

“Olivia Lennox. Funny seeing you here.” 

“Hello, Malcolm.” Olivia’s eyes flit down to the pamphlets to avoid the boy’s heavy stare.

“I noticed you left your eraser in our last class and I was just in time to snatch it up before anyone stole it-figuring you’d be desperate to have it back in your possession as soon as possible-“

“Thanks- but it’s okay. You can keep it.” 

Of course, Malcolm kept talking, but at this point, Olivia had stopped listening because he’d just taken her hand and was unfurling it without permission. His fingers opened hers up. What her brain had figured would be the eraser he was talking about was actually a pair of little earrings and a folded tiny square of paper. His skin caressed hers.

Retracting her hand quickly and face already burning from the attention he was drawing, Olivia piped up, “What is this?”

He just smirked and caressed her again, this time with his eyes, before simply saying, “Your eraser.

The girls behind the table next to Olivia looked at Malcolm and then looked at the shiny silver earrings peeking out from Olivia’s curled palm. They all looked at each other, disbelievingly.

“First of all, the shade is all wrong. You hate lime green,” Viola stated with a scoff as she held one earring up to her eye.

"Yeah, I do,” Olivia said simply before taking another bite of her salad.

Maria held the piece of paper that Malcolm had given her up, “And then this poem:

_You are the starlight to my moonshine_

_Your the summer of my mind_

_You can complete a perfect square_

_And make jocks stop and stare_

_My heart goes boom_

_When you walk in the room_

_Hair flowing behind,_

_Could be the star of a shrine_

_I need you in my life, baby_

_Let me love you comple-_

Okay, I’m stopping. I might throw up if I go on. He mentioned shrines. And used the wrong “you’re”. I’m scared.”

Olivia laughed- or maybe she cried.

“What is it about you that makes men want to write shitty poems about you, Liv?” Maria smirked, but the undertone of jealousy still remained.

“Um, I don’t know, but maybe that says more about me that they all border creepy or cliche.”

“No way. That’s on the idiots who write them. If I was even the slightest bit good with words, I’d fix that pile of garbage. There’s plenty of material to create a masterpiece,” Viola smiled softly at Olivia, and Olivia flushed a deep scarlet. Damn her light skin that showed any change in pigment possible.

"Yeah,” Maria drew out the word as she looked between the two girls next to her. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s Malcolm.” She paused, “Actually, maybe that’s why you should worry.”

“Well, whatever,” Olivia brushed off, straightening her back and folding her hands demurely in front of her to prepare to move on from the subject.

But then, she glanced at Viola. The girl had her elbows on the table to hold her face up, the ends of her hair were dipping low enough to skim her food, and just then, she blew her bubblegum so big it snapped with a loud “ _pop_ ”. Olivia couldn’t help but smile. The girl looked so comfortable in her skin that, just watching her, Olivia subconsciously relaxed her spine and loosened her hands.

“Vi," Viola's green eyes loyally flew to hers at the sound of her name, "You’ve got,” Olivia leaned into Viola’s bubble to swipe her hair up and away from her tray, “your hair is in your food.”

She began to gather the rest and decided to just swiftly braid it together to prevent anymore mingling between hair and Mac and cheese. 

“Ugh, I should just get it cut.”

The sense of dread that washed over Olivia at those words was unexpected, “No, don’t. I love your hair.” 

“Nope, too late. I’m going to chop it all off. Already made my appointment.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Like you’d ever really cut it.”

Looking affronted, Viola turned her spork to point at Olivia, “I could!”

“You wouldn’t show your face until it grew back.”

“That’s not true! As I recall, I was walking around with short hair for months.”

Olivia sat back in her chair with a look on her face that made Viola chuckle nervously in her seat.

“You’d never cut it. You’d cry and beg Paul to put it back.” She suddenly leaned in with a mischievous smirk curled on her lips, eyes shining, “Plus, you like when people run their hands through it too much.”

Except Viola didn’t respond the way Olivia had thought (or maybe hoped), she would to her little flirtatious jab. The flowing ease of their interaction came to a jerking halt. Across the table, Maria choked on a pea. 

Viola’s cheeks bloomed a very visible red, which was peculiar in itself because the girl was not one to shy away from anything of sexual nature or any mention of her and Duke’s intimate relationship. But both Viola and Olivia knew what Olivia hadn't been talking about Duke, and by the looks of it, the rest of their table probably got that impression too. 

Olivia immediately began to regret her boldness. 

Viola shifted to her left, and Olivia flinched at the action. The movement also showed how Olivia’s hand had dropped down to rest on Viola’s thigh after braiding her hair. Viola looked down at it, then looked at Olivia meaningfully. Olivia hated the look on her face.

Maria's eyes zipped back and forth between the two of them and down at Olivia's arm in her usual calculating way. The other girls at the table exchanged looks. It suddenly all felt very sinful, and Olivia pulled her hand back into her lap quickly. 

Then, Viola does what she does best: make everything into a performative joke to cover up things she doesn't want people to see.

“Alright, alright, ladies. What Duke and I do behind closed doors is none of your business. Unless you’re paying.” She then picks up her spork again and shovels Mac and cheese into her mouth.

The other girls laugh. They easily dismiss the weird moment as Viola and Olivia just being Viola and Olivia: the two friends with dramatic crossdressing history, but both date handsome guys.

But Olivia’s appetite had left her. She suddenly felt queasy and dismissed herself from the table to briskly cut through the dining hall. She didn't know if Viola looked up from her food as she left, but Olivia wasn't even sure if she wanted the other girl to realize how affected she was.

She walked all the way to the second floor girl's bathroom, went straight to the sinks, and leaned against them, suddenly feeling ill. After failing to calm down, she fidgeted with her buzzing hands and found herself turning the sink on to clean them.

She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed.

She wiped a tear with the sleeve of her shoulder, hands still submerged in what was now scolding hot water. Eventually, she pulled them back with a hiss.

The coil of energy deep in Olivia's gut diffused, leaving only a more vacant feeling in its wake.

Olivia removed her hands from the sink.

The water still ran. Her eyes were red-rimmed in the reflection of the dented mirror. They traveled along the contours of her own anatomy, and she prodded her nose, her chin, her cheekbone. The now rubbed-raw and red skin of her fingers were a stark contrast from the creamy pastel of her face. Olivia thought briefly how her paled features looked almost translucent under the fluorescent tube lights of the bathroom.

Her thoughts journeyed further, and she found herself getting upset. If her outside was seemingly 'beautiful', what did it matter when she, inside, was ugly. If she couldn't seem to feel the right things for the right people (and felt the right things for the wrong person).

Dropping her hands from her face, she gathered some paper towels and waited for the water to turn cold before dipping them under the stream. Using a strategy from her Aunt Catherine, Olivia used the cold paper towel to dab against her tear-stained skin, careful of her mascara, until the puffiness disappeared, and the whites of her eyes were no longer muddy with bloodshot red. Her eyes shown their normal blue once again.

She fixed her hair, straightened her blouse, and took a deep breath in and then out. Despite the release of air, her chest stayed heavy, and her eyes drooped. 

Olivia left the bathroom with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, and they stayed that way for the rest of the day.


	5. the kiss

Were people looking at her? She felt like she was getting more looks than usual.

“Do you think he would? Olivia?”

“Hmm? ”

“I asked you if you thought Greg is planning on asking me to go with him to McCullen’s party. Geez, what’s up with you.”

“Nothing, just stressing about the chemistry final coming up.” Olivia looked at Maria, doing her best to seem engaged. “There’s a party?”

Maria rolled her eyes. 

“Like you have any reason to worry about chemistry. Yes, party this weekend. Saturday. You were literally there when he told us to come,” She then squealed and grabbed Olivia’s hand that was holding a textbook loosely. “This is the perfect chance for you to get back on the horse- with a low-stakes, fun hookup! It’s perfect. We’ll get a few drinks in you and find the cutest guy in our vicinity.”

Maria’s exuberance was contagious, and Olivia found herself smiling back. It really didn’t take much to influence Olivia and her mood. She had always been easy to rile up and, in the same manner, calm down.

“A carefree night does sound nice.”

This was not good. Ten seconds ago, Olivia was shocked out of her alcohol-induced stupor by a pair of lips smashing into her own. Just as shocking was the flash of heat going down her body in response to the surprise kiss. The owner of those lips now moved further and further away from her, in a heated argument with Duke Orsino, and Olivia couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Viola and Olivia had found each other after not seeing each other much throughout the entire night. Up until then, Olivia had been with Maria and the rest of their group, downing absolutely too many tequila mixed drinks under the pretense of having a good time. And it was working. 

Unfortunately, her teenage pea brain didn’t predict how absentminded and, well… touchy- is the more PG13 word for it- tequila made her feel.

Upon seeing Viola for the first time that night, Olivia visualized flashing lights and happy pinging noises celebrating her appearance: a whole goddamn carnival game inside of Olivia. It was something that hadn't gone away from when Viola was dressing up as Sebastian, and Olivia would experience the same internal reaction when he'd be near.

She thinks one of her friends had been talking to her. Or maybe it’d been some guy? She wasn't sure because she'd just been nodding brainlessly at them, feeling like there were ants in her pants. And then whatever that person was trying to say was cut short when she swept past them with a quick "excuse me" into the large mass of people dancing with Viola among them. 

Viola was dancing with one of her friends, definitely looking under the influence herself, when Olivia slipped into the little gap their group had made. Viola had her eyes closed dreamily, but when they opened, they were already on Olivia like she’d sensed her presence far before she could see her.

Olivia watched the grin spread over Viola’s face like some kind of beautiful fucking sunrise, and her eyes were doing that thing where they glimmered like bright reflections off a lake. 

Olivia drunkenly wondered when she became good at prose. 

“There you are,” Viola said, and the way she said it made Olivia’s pulse race under her skin. Viola had spoken with a quiet intensity, way too soft for the atmosphere around them. She’d said it almost to herself, like a contented sigh. The juxtaposition confused Olivia's affected cognitive thinking, but not in a way that was unpleasant. 

Viola's hand came up to Olivia's cheek, and again, the action was so out of place that Olivia felt almost out-of-body.

“Hey,” Olivia murmured. She didn’t know why she was suddenly out of breath or why she could swear Viola might kiss her. They’d barely said two words to each other, and Olivia couldn't remember doing anything to garner how Viola was looking at her right then. The hand caressing the cheekbone under her eye slid down to slip into Olivia's hand without breaking eye contact. 

And perhaps if they were in some Shakespearean fairytale, a slow song would’ve started playing. Their joined hands would’ve become a close embrace, and their bubble of..whatever was happening right then (Olivia was sure booze had something to do with it) wouldn’t have to burst.

But, as it was, a thick layer of heat had fallen over the crowd of dancing teenagers. The music got louder, and Viola's friend yelled in her face excitedly. Olivia had no idea who the girl was but she grinned back. The bass was pumping and rattling the vases on the walls of Richard McCullen’s house; Justin Timberlake’s electronically manipulated voice elicited the more raunchy dancing to come out to play, and the two girls were no exception. 

Viola gave her the most devilish smile as she playfully sang the lyrics without breaking their locked eye contact. 

_"Them other boys don't know how to act."_

The music was too loud to really hear her voice, but Olivia had felt it against her skin.

She had raked her eyes down Viola’s camisole and low-rise jean combination that left a strip of her flat stomach visible. Her long hair draped down her back, slightly mussed from the party and rubbing against people, and Olivia was close enough to see her eyeliner was smudged a bit too. It was probably the hottest thing she’d ever seen. And then Viola mouthed the next lines to her while slowly looking down her body, and it was practically pornographic.

_“Dirty babe. You see these shackles, baby, I’m your slave. I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave. It's just that no one makes me feel this way.”_

It would have been normal enough. They were two objectively attractive girls, and there were enough bodies around them where swaying and grinding in sync with one another didn’t stick out. So Olivia moved closer, made her movements more purposeful, and blurred the lines even further. 

Thank god for alcohol and hormones.

Sometime around the second verse, Olivia had moved her hands from where they were behind Viola’s neck and buried them through Viola’s dark locks, raking strands away from Viola’s labored breath. Viola’s eyes closed, and she pressed her forehead to Olivia’s before instinctively pulling the blonde ever closer with the hand on her waist.

_"You motherfuckers watch how I attack._   
_If that's your girl, better watch your back._   
_'Cause she'll burn it up for me, and that's a fact."_

Their lips met on Viola’s volition. The movement was so sudden for how close they were already that their teeth clacked and Olivia inhaled sharply through her nose. Her lips were soft and gave easily to Olivia's. Through her haze, Olivia felt a hand cup her jaw and disjointedly processed that it was Viola's touch. Viola tilted her head to search for the perfect angle to devour Olivia, and Olivia enthusiastically joined her in fulfilling this goal. Their kiss became a dance in itself. A give and take of heated need.

“Viola!” A male voice cut in and Olivia felt Viola bite her bottom lip a bit harder than normal in surprise. 

Jerking back at the sharp feeling in her lip, Olivia's body stopped its rhythm to the music. She felt the heat of Viola’s body suddenly abandon her, and her eyes flickered open to see only Viola’s profile now. She briefly looked dazed, but the expression was quickly wiped from her face as she began to talk loudly with Duke over the blaring music. 

Her voice was pitched higher than usual as she anxiously hand gestured with Duke shaking his head scoffing. He was next to his friend and Viola’s teammate, Andrew, who’s jaw was on the floor gawking at the two of them like he’d just witnessed his greatest wish come true.

The whole situation was disorienting. Olivia blinked, still lost on the fact that she’d just been kissed. By Viola. And thoroughly. It was so quick, yet Olivia felt like something occurred that couldn’t be taken back. The feeling was similar to when she went on one of her mom’s strict diets, and throughout the week, she’d repeat in her mind that she could not eat any tempting sugary goodness. She could not. And then, on the last day, someone would dangle a cookie in front of her face, and pretty soon that cookie was in her stomach- blissfully consumed despite knowing it was absolutely not allowed under any circumstances.

They’d kissed, and it felt like Olivia got a taste of the best tasting cookie in the world. Plus, to continue her analogy, she didn't even get to finish her cookie before stupid Duke snatched it away.

Now Viola wouldn’t look at her. In fact, despite being the third person involved in the conflict, Olivia felt very much like she was watching from the bleachers again.

“Vio-“ still in a bit of an alcoholic daze, Olivia touched Viola’s arm in hopes that she could get a handle on what was happening. Perhaps ground herself more if Viola would just look at her-

“Don’t-“ Viola stopped talking to Duke to hastily lift her hands in a surrender away from the blonde’s hand, “Okay, no, Duke let me just...” Olivia didn’t hear the rest of Viola’s nullifications because the girl left their spot on the dance floor to drag Duke to the outside porch.

Their little display had attracted the attention of most of the curious kids around them. Glancing around at the eyes staring back at her, Olivia felt like a circus animal. It was like that familiar creeping feeling constricted her throat and made it hard to swallow.

She hated that Viola had done this. Kept tugging her into the public spectacles that seemed to follow Viola wherever she goes. 

When she messed up, Viola had a habit of focusing on people who were upset with her and forgetting everyone else in the room existed. It was one of Viola’s quirks that frequently made Olivia swoon under her intense focus, but when it was directed towards someone else, someone like _Duke_ , she wanted to explode. Or cry.

If there was one thing Olivia hated, it was being abandoned. Ignored.

Olivia ducked her head and swiped at her swollen lips with the back of her hand as she swiftly left the circle of teenagers coughing awkwardly and whispering.

Viola was a whirlwind, and Olivia seemed to always find herself standing in the wreckage.

Tired and deflated, Olivia- rather ungracefully,- shoved the door to the Lennox family mansion open. Strands of hair framing her face fluttered in front of her vision, which annoyed her more than it usually would. She plopped her keys down in the porcelain dish kept on a mantel below a large, posh painting of gardenias.

The last thing she wanted to do was see Maria back in her dorm if her roommate had heard about party (which was highly likely), but perhaps taking a taxi back to her parents' place wasn’t the best hindsight either.

Shoes in hand, Olivia padded through the cavernous foyer and up the marble staircase. The stillness of the house seemed to speak its disapproval to Olivia. 

She walked past many closed white doors before finally making it to the one that led to her room. After slinking along without a sound, the squeak of the door opening made her internally cringe. She found her bed and collapsed onto the feathery comforter with a groan.

Her feet were sore, her stomach sloshed with a sea of sugary alcoholic beverages, and the heavy-hearted feeling of emptiness was slowly creeping into vision from the corners of her eyes.

Finally, after several minutes ticked by, Olivia twisted to her night table to switch on the radio next to her pillow. It was a bit old fashioned to have in one’s bedroom, she knew. Her iPod was around somewhere, but she liked to hear the radio hosts' upbeat voices fill the room.

“...this is for all the lonely hearts on this fine Saturday night.” 

Olivia glared bitterly at that and plucked the hair clip from her hair digging uncomfortably into her head from how she was laying. Despite her mood, she let the music play.

She listened as the slow rhythmic tunes calmed the buzzing under her skin. It must have been five or six songs that passed before one started playing that made her slowly blink her eyes open. Her heart followed closely along with the strum of the guitar and voices blooming into an opening of rose-colored violin.

_“If you, if you could return_   
_Don't let it burn,_   
_Don't let it fade.”_

Letting the sound seep and fill her chest, Olivia finally felt light enough to stand and walk over to her mirror. She looked at herself, swiped under her eyes to soften the smudges caused by her mascara. Her face looked more lifeless than usual, so she squeezed her cheeks to draw some color before quickly stopping. It's something her mother would have noticed and done.

Sick of looking at herself and noticing flaws, Olivia moved her eyes to the photos she'd pushed into the edges of the mirror and stuck on her wall around it. There were pictures of her from past country club events. Some were pictures of her smiling with friends at camp and tennis. Many were of her and Maria through the years, from missing front teeth to pearl necklaces around elegant necks. Then there were the new ones with Viola (and even Duke). Group pictures and pictures of just the two of them. Those caught her eye the most since they were only put up a few weeks ago.

Her eyes lingered on the the three of them at a football game taken last month. Duke had a large sherpa jacket tugged up around his chin and her and Viola were bundled up in similar attire with scarves and red-tinged noses. They were all smiling, but Viola's absolutely beamed as she leaned heavily into Olivia with their arms linked. Olivia was smiling at Viola, and Viola grinned like she knew it.

_"But I'm in so deep._   
_You know I'm such a fool for you,_   
_You've got me wrapped around your finger_   
_Do you have to let it linger?"_

Olivia brought copies of the photos from her dorm to put in her room. It felt important. She wanted physical evidence of the new friendships she'd developed. She wanted Viola to have a part somewhere in this part of her life, even though it always felt worlds away. Maybe she could inject some of the feelings of comfort and contentment she always had around Viola into her actual home.

Except now, looking at the pictures of Viola and herself, created an aftertaste of dread. The uncertainty of their relationship made Olivia want to scream. She still didn't understand why this had to happen to her of all people. Why her feelings couldn't seem to stop at close friends. Why she needed to have feelings like she did earlier at the party, feelings of wanting to kiss every inch of her body until she fell apart like putty in Olivia's hands. 

Wanting Viola to do the same to her.

Those desires were scary enough, without acknowledging the more deep-seated sentiment, which was just to _be_. Just be with Viola, just be hers. 

As if she wasn't _being_ already. Was she? She didn't feeling like she was just _being_ most of the time- most of her life- until recently.

Olivia shook her head at her internal mantra and touched her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

It was such a simple desire with so many outside forces making it unthinkable. In a way, Olivia couldn't blame Viola for being hot and cold. Someone out of the two of them had to be the one to create some boundaries so that they didn't make a grave mistake.

_Too late for that, Liv._

_"Oh, I thought the world of you._  
 _I thought nothing could go wrong._  
 _But I was wrong, I was wron_ g-"

Olivia abruptly switched the station. 

The room was then filled with the chatter of radio hosts talking about political discourse that sounded two days old. Perfect.

She stripped her pants and slid under her covers, only reaching out to crank up the volume in better effort to drown out her thoughts. Perhaps she could just sleep until Monday. Hideout here until she had to go back to school, and by then, the incident will have gone around the rumor mill enough times that people would write it off as an effort for attention. Maybe that's the angle she'd take.

Head spinning with workable explanations, Olivia finally felt settled enough to drift closer towards a fretful slumber.


	6. pick the Yoplait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware, this chapter has not been edited nearly as much as the others. I'll be editing it soon, but I wanted to get this up tonight. Eunice is a blast to write btw.

"Olivia Lennox and Viola Hastings...at McCullen's party...he came in right when it happened...full on making out...I saw it myself!"

"...dumped her twin brother after two months of dating him...maybe now we know why..."

"...still crossdresses when she's not at school..."

"....big misunderstanding...blonde whore will do anything..."

"...I can't believe Olivia Lennox kissed a _girl_..." 

"Olivia and Viola..."

"Viola and Olivia..."

  
“H-hi Olivia.”

The blonde jerked her eyes away from the row of different yogurts she’d been trying to decide from. Her heart jumped in a fight or flight response to the distinctively female, yet distinctively creepy sounding voice that had addressed her.

“Eunice! God, you scared me,” Olivia whispered heatedly and looked around and behind the gangly girl practically vibrating next to her.

“You scare me too,” Eunice moaned, starry-eyed.

Olivia suddenly realized how close Eunice was and instinctively leaned the other way. She’d never felt particularly uncomfortable around the girl before. Still, she frowned at Eunice’s intense stare and labored breathing. She could practically feel Eunice panting on her. Ew.

“Are you getting yogurt? Trying to decide? Get Yoplait,” she snatched a strawberry one from the shelf and grasped it with both hands in front of Olivia’s face like it was a weapon, “It’s _so smooth_.” The sides of the carton crushed under her fingertips.

Olivia realized with a start that the way the other girl was acting was something she’d only seen happen from an outside perspective with Duke or Sebastian.

Eunice leaned even closer to Olivia, and her eyes finally let go of Olivia’s only to very obviously run them over the slopes of Olivia’s cheek and neck. “And creamy.”

Eunice reached out to touch Olivia’s lips, and Olivia nearly dropped her half-full shopping cart. “And sugary sweet…”

“Eunice!” Olivia practically screeched, thoroughly alarmed now. 

“Olivia Lennox,” Eunice flicked her tongue on the syllables of Olivia’s last name in a way that made her queasy, “I heard about your-" Eunice held up a carton of milk that was from her own cart, "thirs _ss_ t...for Homo sapian femellas.”

Olivia blanched. “What??”

“You and V-viola. I didn’t realize you were-“

The overhead sound system of the grocery store called an employee to the front desk, talking over Eunice.

Olivia struggled to find her usual goodnatured disposition. 

Staring at Eunice with wide, frightened eyes, Olivia said, “I’m not.”

Eunice finally gave her some breathing room, but kept gawking at her as if she finally saw something in Olivia that interested her. Olivia used the opportunity to regather herself and harden her face into a lethal glower, but before she could attack-

"B-but, I heard about you and Viola. I’m fluent in the language of pheromones. You two release an abundance.” Her braces gave a winking shine.

Olivia’s mouth clicked shut at that. 

“She is dreamy isn’t she?”

Olivia had to physically stop herself from doing something stupid like agreeing with Eunice about Viola being “dreamy”. Much less anyone. Agreeing with Eunice in general was concerning to the debutante.

“She was even dreamy as a boy…” Eunice looked off into the dairy aisle with a faraway look in her eyes.

Olivia shifted her eyes around. Nobody was around. Thank god. She looked back at Eunice to see the girl drooling. 

“Um-“

Eunice suddenly looked at Olivia with wild eyes, similar to how they were when she gave crystal ball readings at town fairs.

“She’s totally different now when she’s Duke's girlfriend isn’t she? So very sugary sweet and,” Eunice presented the Yoplait yogurt again, exhaling so much air, Olivia thought she was going to pass out, “ _manufactured_.I thought maybe Viola liked Duke because she could be comfortable around him, but I suppose we all inevitably assume our _roles_." Eunice looked pointedly at Olivia during the last part.

Olivia felt the bottom of her stomach fall out at Eunice voicing thoughts she'd kept to herself until late in the night. God, why did the girl have to be so weird? It made it so much harder to use the social manipulations familiar to her. Her debutante skills had no power here.

“But," Eunice perked up from the dark look that had passed over her face, "I think she’ll see that, with you,Olivia, you two are…spicy,” she licked her lips, “And sweet. Like a gourmet cinnamon custard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Olivia said through gritted teeth. 

Good. Denial. Denial is good.

Except Eunice’s grin blinded her, and the girl was vibrating again. Olivia swore that what she'd just said had gone in one ear and out the other. 

In a tone of wonderment, Eunice uttered, “The most popular, prettiest girl in school- a lesbian.”

Olivia gripped her cart closer to her body, but something about Eunice saying **the word** didn’t make it seem as severe as usual. Perhaps because weirder things came out of her mouth regularly.

“I’m not.. _.that,_ Eunice, and don’t go around saying things that aren’t true," she spoke clearly and slowly in case Eunice somehow didn't understand.

As unphased as ever, Eunice gave Olivia a little pat that made her feel like she was being silly and said, “I understand.”

Olivia glared and did not look back as she twirled into the nearest aisle, briskly walking farther and farther from where Eunice still stood.

“I support you!” was all she heard yelled after her.

It was still Sunday when Duke found her in the park close by to Illyria's campus. It had only been that morning that Olivia had experienced the disturbing run-in with Eunice so she was trying to recover. It wasn't fair, in a way, because Duke knew that she loved to come to this park since she was a little girl and he used it to his advantage to interrupt her alone time.

“Olivia!”

At the sound of her name, Olivia quickened her pace. However, it was futile because Duke’s long legs caught up to her fast.

“Duke, I don’t feel like talking, really. I'm sorry, but can we just save this for the week.”

The muscles underneath his jaw danced. 

“Well, that’s too bad. You- you kissed my girlfriend, Olivia!”

Getting right into it then.

Olivia subtly rolled her eyes and turned, but couldn’t help herself in correcting him, “She kissed me, actually.”

That got him to pause, and he frowned, wiping his hands over his head. "Did she now?" Olivia briefly felt bad for him. He looked a tragically disheveled mess, but in his tall, dark and handsome way.

“Look, Duke, I’m not sure why you’re here talking to me when it had been Viola’s idea. She thought that if we kissed in the middle of the dance floor, we could attract more guys. For me, obviously. It wasn’t personal-"

“Give it up, Olivia. I already know."

She cleared her throat and acted oblivious, “Know?

That only proved to frustrate him more, and he raised his voice at her, “About you and her! The two of you…being into each other or whatever.”  
  
Olivia's eyes widened, and she frantically looked around the park, “I don't-“

"I knew, I knew she was going to turn around and stab me in the back, even when I thought-" Duke's balled fists unclenched and he put his head in his hands. Olivia just looked at him, still surprised at his tone of voice and outburst. 

"She let me know how she's been feeling,” Duke's body dropped to a bench, deflated.

“How has she been feeling?” Olivia breathed, and there suddenly wasn't enough air in the world.

Duke threw up his hands, “Like she wanted to kiss you? I don’t know, but she didn’t really share much, _Olivia_. She was too busy trying to apologize," he threw a hand up and dropped it down. He frowned at a kid running past them. The young boy's floppy yellow hat was falling down the crown of his head, obscuring his vision. He weaved an uneven line as he ran, and looked generally disheveled, yet elated. Duke scoffed, and squinted into the open air, " I think she's confused."

Olivia watched as he nodded to himself.

"I think she's confused," he repeated.

They then both sat side by side on the stone park bench. Both looked out at the park, and an odd silence fell over them.

Olivia wondered if Viola was confused. And if she was, maybe... maybe she'd been confused like Olivia had been for the past several months.

"Or not, I mean, she kissed you!" Duke's attention was again on her, "And from what I saw you did too," he pointed at her sharply. "Yeah, you seemed really damn into it. God, I'm so confused." 

His head was in his hands again.

“The girl I had a crush on forever and the girl I love being into each other- two of the girls I’ve been most in love with are into each other.” Duke looked at her, “Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

Olivia searched for something she could say to appease the boy.

“No,” Olivia admitted, realizing too late she wasn't denying anything.

"I-I just can’t catch a break. I’m cursed.”

Somehow, Olivia found herself comforting a dismayed Duke Orsino on the bench of Lacy Park.

“I just- I don’t get it.” Duke caught her wrist, “why didn’t you like me?”

“I-you’re a great guy, Duke. it was nothing personal,” she found herself repeating. “I just-“

“You’re just gay or somethin’” he said accusingly.

" _No,_ " she said with more force than she'd given anything else this entire interaction. 

"Then what is it, huh?"

"I just-" Olivia cleared her throat and averted her gaze primly. If she was going to admit something, she would do it under her own terms. "I'm confused too."

"Great. Seems like everyone's confused these days," His glare lingered on her. "You know, I really used to like you, Olivia. You would carry yourself with such ease and like- uh- grace. You know, nobody would ever see you treat someone nasty and you've always been so quick to be pleased with the smallest things."

Olivia flinched and looked down at her hands, thinking of all the times when those things hadn't been particularly true.

Duke's expression was pained with what he said next, "And, you know, Viola and I would sometimes mention you, and mention all of these things- and- I always thought it was a little weird you know with how much she loved to talk about you. But not just talk about you, talk about you, but like...she'd be able to participate in the guy talk. Like she wanted to talk about you more than even I did sometimes."

Olivia slowly released the breath she'd been holding. Her heart beat faster at the new perspective into Viola's point of view.

But Duke didn't seem like he had anything else to say, and again, they sat in silence, this time more companionable than before.

"I'm sorry for what happened, Duke." Olivia murmured, tapping his leg gently.

He let out a big sigh, one that felt heavier than the weighted guilt in Olivia's chest.

They sat together until the sun began to kiss the horizon, and the responsibility of getting home on time for dinner was too near. Both their mothers had the potential to skin them alive if they disobeyed the established rules that were not to be crossed, especially for something as serious as Sunday family dinner.

All the way home, Olivia thought of all of the interactions of the day. Thought of what it was going to be like seeing Viola again on Monday after all of these new developments. And then that conversation with Duke...

She shook her head. It didn't matter. She was going to do whatever damage control needed to be done to fix Viola's and the school's judgments. 

She somehow felt like she possessed more clarity after the evening with Duke. Even though she wasn't sure if she had completely compromised herself to him, she didn't feel like she had. She'd said that she was confused. Lots of people were confused about lots of different things.

Yes, her and Duke had come to some kind of standstill. Now, if only she could work everything else in her favor. There had to be some way that allowed her to have her cake and eat it too. If her name was Olivia Lennox, she would get the one thing she so desperately wanted...


	7. canoodling

Olivia missed Viola.

The brunette had been avidly avoiding her- or perhaps it just seemed that way since before the kiss at the party, both Viola and Olivia alike made conscious efforts to seek each other out whenever an opportunity arose. As it was now, there was a severe lack of Viola popping up out of nowhere, asking to go to Dairy Queen, showing up at Olivia's tennis practice, or wanting Olivia to come with her to Paul’s salon to pester him all day. It was mildly depressing to Olivia who realized that Viola brought most of the life, well..into her life.

Even her heart couldn’t seem to bother without Viola around to make it dance in her chest.

Shoulders low and books high against her chest to cover where her heart lay, Olivia maneuvered her way down the hall. She was walking alone for once, without a gang of girls flanked on either side of her, and it was mostly purposeful in order to attract less attention to her presence. All anyone had for Olivia, including her friends, were questions. Questions and judgements, and dangerous words that had the potential to crumble Olivia and her reputation. So she avoided all of them in kind.

Her next class was chemistry, her only class with Viola. Sure, they were partners, but Viola had been strictly business for the whole week so far. She didn’t mention a thing about what happened over the weekend, even when Olivia poked and prodded with her words when she realized Viola wasn’t going to acknowledge that the whole school was buzzing about them. 

It wasn’t like Viola was hostile with Olivia- quite the opposite actually. She was friendly, productive, and detached. It reminded Olivia of the beginning of Viola playing Sebastian. Back when Viola hadn’t thought much of Olivia, mind too preoccupied with keeping up with her fraud.

The past few days, Viola had also used Duke to escape moments where Olivia and her might talk. Granted, the couple didn't seem to be in much better shape themselves, but at least Viola talked to him. At least Duke didn't have the added baggage on their relationship that Olivia couldn't see _not_ being a problem for her. She couldn't escape the fact that she'd fallen for a girl all those months ago rather than the boy she should've loved. She knew she shouldn't, but wanting Viola came as easily as breathing to Olivia.

Was Viola truly not thinking of the party beyond her troubles with Duke while Olivia was driving herself mad being unable to _stop_ thinking of it?

“Move,” a voice gruffed from behind her, and Olivia startled.

“Sorry,” she quickened her pace to keep with the hustle and bustle of the hallway.

Olivia swiftly entered the chem lab, dropped her stuff down in her usual seat, but remembered herself when it occurred to her that she shouldn't come so early to class lest Malcolm tries to advance on her again today without Viola's presence there to stop him.

(“Olivia, I heard about what happened on Saturday. Now, I know you must be getting this quite a lot, and believe me, I’d rather not be wasting both our time on this of all things, but if you could just confirm for my sources that it is not in fact true that you and-” Malcolm pulled a disgusted face. Olivia never understood his strong dislike towards her. “-Viola Hastings are in cahoots and canoodling with each other. Just a simple no will do.” He held up what seemed to be a tape recorder up to Olivia’s lips. 

Somehow, Malcolm made the word _canoodling_ sound more horrible than when Eunice said the L word the other day.)

“Olivia!”

Sigh. Speak of the devil.

"Malco-"

“Olivia!” 

Olivia perked up at the familiar sound of her name spoken with bright, rounded out vowels and light flicks of the “l”.

Olivia revolved her body around to catch her eyes on Viola. When before she’d been leaning further into her notebook to discourage Malcolm, now her spine straightened and her shoulders spread, opening up, like the petals of a flower opening to the sun.

At hearing Viola’s usual bright way of addressing her for the first time in days, Olivia's heart soared. 

_There it is._

“Viola,” Olivia positively beamed back, and she couldn’t care less if everyone in the class could see it. 

Viola blinked at her, like she hadn't been expecting such a reaction from her, but wasn't unpleased with it. For her part, the blonde debutante tried to dial down her eagerness and clasped her hands together to focus her energy.

“Did you get your twenty questions done last night?” Viola questioned sweetly, dropping her regular bag and soccer bag on her floor. A classically checkered soccer ball rolled from her feet to Olivia's without the brunette noticing so Olivia made sure to stop it with the tip of her shoe before it rolled to the other lab table.

Olivia let her eyes lift back up to the girl sitting across from her. Viola was tightening her hair which was hitched in a high ponytail, perfectly sleek and smooth. She donned an "Illyria Varsity Soccer" shirt that was fit to the curves of her body and Nike shorts that encased her thighs, just as fitted. Olivia remembered that the soccer players wore their spirit gear the day they had a home game after school, and couldn't help but think that Viola looked like she could be in a Gatorade commercial.

“Yes,” Olivia mumbled demurely, horrified to feel heat blooming in her cheeks. 

Viola laughed, bright and ringing. Olivia frowned, hoping Viola wasn't laughing because she could see her own attraction written plainly across her face.

“All twenty? I swear, I started snoring at question eleven.”

“Well, that’s because the pages weren’t cracking jokes every two minutes to keep hold of your nonexistent attention span, Vi.” Olivia nudged the thumb holding her pen against Viola's curled one.

Olivia was awarded with another vibrant laugh, and Viola settled her face to look into Olivia’s eyes for the first time in what felt like months to Olivia. Her eyes were a warm seed green, oozing heat and comfort straight express-route into Olivia’s chest.

Something transpires between them that Olivia can’t name. Shaking-were her hands shaking? She felt the blood rush in her ears and could not look away from Viola’s honeyed eyes if her life depended on it, she thinks.

When Viola speaks again, it's softer with something else behind her words, “Could you explain the process of number eighteen to me? You know I’m not good at coordination compounds, but I know you are. It’s kind of amazing, actually.”

(It sounds a lot like _something else_.)

Olivia stared into Viola’s revering eyes, and slowly, she nodded her head.

“Of course,” she found herself saying gently back, scared to break whatever fragile moment they were having, but mostly just feeling like something deep within her had been stirred by the other girl.

The rest of the class passed with Viola and Olivia shoulder to shoulder, talking in low voices over a notebook and volumetric flask. Something had shifted with their dynamic since the weekend that Olivia hadn’t realized until that class because Viola hadn’t let her until then. Olivia would turn to her to mention something about the equations and compliment her progress, only to notice Viola already looking at her. Something would flutter behind the other girl’s eyes, and she’d glance away shyly, and almost guiltily.

Olivia hadn’t been aware that Viola could wear those emotions in such a severe manner. It surprised her, but mostly it fascinated her. She wanted to know this side of Viola that was rarely seen, and was sure not many people were aware of. She wanted to soak up every drop of information, flit through a book of Viola and reread it until she could recite every word by memory. Viola would always tease her about her studious nature, precise handwriting, and organized disposition, but Olivia didn’t know a more delicious clash of temperaments. 

The debutante didn’t think she’d ever felt so spirited before meeting Viola; perhaps Viola had never felt so soothed before meeting her?

(Perhaps Eunice was onto something after all with her weird ramblings about cinnamon custard.)

The bell rang, and everyone around them began packing up everything in a rush. Olivia felt like some spell was broken, and sluggishly started putting their materials away. Viola had no such problem, as she speedily threw pens and paper into her bag. The girl spun around to leave in a tornado, but Olivia tapped her shoulder, holding up her soccer ball with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Not forgetting this, were you?”

“Shoot,” Viola smacked her forehead.

Olivia tossed it to her, and Viola caught it.

“I know you’re rushing to get to your favorite part of the day,” she was talking about mid-day soccer practice, “but I think you’re going to need this too, babe.”

Olivia picked up the roll of pre-wrap that had bounced out of an open pocket in Viola’s bag. Unrolling some as she walked to where Viola stood, the brunette watched her with her mouth slightly open in an “o” shape. 

Doing what Olivia had observed Viola do hundred of times, she tied the ends together in what she hoped was the correct size and slipped the circle over Viola’s head carefully. She lifted the loop to form a headband onto Viola’s head and smiled, satisfied when it appeared to be a perfect fit. Not too tight, but not too loose where it'd slip off when playing.

“I know you always snap it in half when you try to put it on, so I thought I’d help you out,” Olivia said simply as of explanation, even though Viola had made no utterance of needing one.

Viola looks at her in a way Olivia cannot for the life of her pinpoint what exactly the word is for it, but she feels it. Boy, does she feel it.

“…Thanks” Viola says gratefully. Her eyes flit down to Olivia’s lips, evident in their proximity.

Olivia waited.

“Are you coming to the game after school?” Viola’s voice suddenly sounds thin and vulnerable, like she’d been turning the question over in her mind for a while, but hadn’t particularly planned on asking it.

“Do you want me to?” Olivia asked boldly.

Viola looked between her eyes, “Yes, please.”

They looked at each other, suspended again in that weird plane of time. Viola glanced again at her lips.

Feeling eerily content from not being the one struggling for once, Olivia just smiled and turned her around, manhandling the unresponsive girl.

“Go on, you’ll be late. Don’t want the coach to yell at you more than he’s already going to,” Olivia laughed.

Viola was slow to get a move on, and, feeling giddy, Olivia gave her a light tap on her behind playfully.

Viola left the room looking at Olivia over her shoulder, a new sparkle in her eyes that wasn't lost to the blonde's critical eye. Perhaps Viola would give her another smile like that at the game later on. Perhaps she could get Viola to never stop giving her smiles like that.

Biting her lip in a grin, Olivia followed Viola out the classroom, dizzy with cheerfulness, and breezing past a put-out Duke Orsino who's own eyes never wavered from the beaming girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a shorter chapter, but I didn't have it in the plan originally, so I added another chapter to this story to accommodate. Let me know your thoughts, and thanks for reading!


	8. that's a new one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much needed POV change is made halfway through this chapter. So be prepared for some of Viola's thoughts.
> 
> Also, the first half is very soccer heavy, so I'm sorry if you're not into that. I was a soccer player myself so I get carried away. Enjoy!

“ _Come on!”_

Olivia’s throat ached from screaming along with the crowd. Parents and children alike whooped and hollered from all sides of her. Olivia leaned over the railing to get ever closer to the field and the players running upon it. Her foot stomped along with the crowd in a chant, and her friends laughed next to her, their sides bumping against Olivia every so often with the drunken exhilaration only an exciting sports game could bring. 

It was as if the whole student body and their grandma had shown up for the Arden vs. Illyria game. Olivia Lennox was among them, face painted in Illyria colors and donning one of Viola’s many soccer sweatshirts, this one having the Illyria seal on the front breast and HASTINGS proudly across the back. Earlier, she'd worried over whether she should wear it to the game with all the talk of her and Viola still circulating the school, but eventually decided she didn't care enough. Especially when there was a good chance people would just figure it was Sebastian's sweatshirt. 

_“Number 14, Porter has the ball…he connects a successful pass to Orisino on right wing-“_

Olivia’s cheeks were frozen to the touch, and each intake of breath filled her lungs with crisp autumn air, but the thrill under her skin kept her warm under the stadium lights. Duke’s raucous yelling reverberated from the field, bidding someone to, for the love of God, get open. This is how it’s been the whole first half- Arden’s players sticking like glue to Illyria’s offense, shutting down any plays from occurring beyond center field.

The girl who’s name resides on Olivia’s back was zipping around with more zeal than any other fatigued player around her, desperate for an opening to help Duke. Arden had marked a man on her from the starting whistle, most likely one of their more agile midfielders since his runner's form could keep up with that of Viola’s sharp movements.

Viola, of course, was getting frustrated- Olivia could see it plainly enough, even from all the way up in the stands.

_“Ball stolen! Arden ball, number 25, heading for Illyria goal.”_

Off in the corner, Viola gives a hard smack of her colliding body to her Arden bodyguard, and Olivia mostly sees it because her gaze had been seeking out the girl without her realizing it. The boy’s steps falter, and he’s astral projected off course; Viola flies after the ball.

"Viola! Ugh, God," rang out behind Olivia in a shrill, older woman's voice.

Olivia had seen Daphne Hastings long before the starting bell had blown. She sat to Olivia’s right on a diagonal, sitting with who she assumed to be Viola’s father. She’d never actually formally met the man, only heard Viola talk of him sometimes. Admittedly, the girl didn’t seem to like mention him a lot- if not at all. 

Daphne had nearly lost it upon seeing Olivia make her way up the stands.

_(“Oh! Dear, this is Olivia; you remember her, don’t you? She and Sebastian are an item!”_

_Olivia’s eyes bulged as she nervously glanced from one Hastings to the other. Mr. Hastings looked down at her will a considering look that made Olivia want to adjust her hair and clothing._

_“Well..Daphne,” Olivia used the woman's first name like she’d been told to many times. She hesitated, choosing her words carefully, “We aren’t-“_

_“Well, were. You know how these crazy kids are these days, zipping from boy to boy.”)_

She'd talked her ear off before one of Olivia’s friends saved her by asking to get hot chocolate at the concession stand. Now, Daphne gripped onto her ex-husband’s arm, looking aggrieved by Viola’s violence while the rest of the student body around her cheered it on. Olivia herself didn’t have the same sentiments. She watched Viola plunge into aggression without a care, and suddenly felt too warm in her collar. A flush of heat would go down her body, and she had to swallow every time Viola handled the ball with such elegance and finesse that Olivia was so unused to seeing from the brunette. 

It was also one of the times Viola was most serious, at least publicly. Olivia had grown used to knowing a Viola Hastings that didn’t need to act like a walking sitcom in the quiet of Olivia’s dorm room.

Viola on the soccer field was a sight to see.

Maybe Olivia _was_ overwhelmed with pride and love for the girl, watching her then. But if you were there watching her too you would understand why it was suddenly hard for Olivia to remember why she shouldn’t admit to such things, even in her head.

_"Illyria corner!"_

Andrew took the corner kick and lofted the ball into the crowded penalty box.

A strange series of events occurred that looked like a big tangle of bodies in front of a frenzied goalkeeper. A familiar lithe figure was among some of the bodies jumping to meet the ball with their heads. She got a good head on it, but it glanced off another player before it could skate into the net. The Arden bodyguard-face dark with scowl- didn't even look at the ball as he threw himself into Viola, elbow jerking up just so, towards her face.

Olivia vaguely heard Daphne squawk again as several bodies collide and crumple to the ground. It was all so quick and intense, however most players pop back up to continue with the game. Some stay lying on the turf, and one of which had a long brown ponytail. The Arden player looked at her and scoffed, purposefully stepping on Viola's hand that lay planted on the grass. Viola only gave him the satisfaction of jerking her hand to her chest.

Olivia felt her stomach capsize. She actually lurched forward immediately, stomach hitting the resistance of railing and her hands gripped it tightly. She was zeroed in on Viola and a second away from running down to the pitch like she'd done all those months ago. She only vaguely heard her friends murmur their concerns for Illyria's top scorer, too angry to even function beyond staring.

Viola always threw herself into the game and got knocked around quite a bit, but she wasn't moving just then.

"Oh god," Olivia whispered. The girl had raised her body up, clutching the middle of her face where a substance reflected shine from the stadium lights. 

Without her usual grace, Viola stumbled blearily up, and a referee directed her to go to the sidelines where someone was waiting with a first aid kit at the ready. She didn't walk for long, though, before an anxious Duke ran up alongside her. They seemed to be having a discussion, and Viola brushed him off, most likely getting annoyed and embarrassed by his attention, still trying to cover her injury. Duke tried to move her hand to get a look at her nose, and Olivia held her breathe. 

A path of fresh blood was visible from a smeared nose, dripping grotesquely off her chin. Viola bat him away again and stalked quicker to the sideline. Closer to where Olivia stood.

She watched as Viola spat out blood that'd entered her mouth before flickering her eyes up to the stands. Her eyes stopped on Olivia immediately as if she'd already established where Olivia had put herself.

Some indiscernible emotions danced in her eyes, but she smiled weakly at her. Olivia must have smiled back because Viola gingerly touched her injury and made a face at her red fingers for Olivia. Olivia's laugh sounded more like a release of air she'd been keeping trapped in her chest, but it satisfied Viola. 

Daphne looked like she might faint and tried to get her daughter's attention from where it was (which was on her son's ex-girlfriend for whatever reason)(honestly, the inside of Viola's mind was a mystery to her).

Ten minutes later, Viola was begging Coach to let her play, and Olivia was griping to her friends about how typical Viola this was. Blood was still leaking from her injured nose, and a nasty shiner would be donning one of her eyes for the next week.

They ended up losing with a score of 2-1, and most attendees left satisfied with the entertainment of a good game through and through. Some students left engaged in heavy discourse and discontent, like Olivia's friends.

Olivia walked out with them, but said she'd forgotten her keys as an excuse to head back to the stadium. There, she watched as an evasive Viola steered clear of her concerned loved ones. She pretending to have a lot to talk about with Coach until eventually, Duke and her parents gave up on waiting for her. Not long after, the tall, scowling man grew tired of Viola's stalling and waved her away to mop up the fresh stream of blood coming from her injury.

The debutante waited for Viola to see her, wondering if she would be welcome to linger, unlike the others.

"Don't get too close. I'm all sweaty and probably smell worse than my brother's gym bag," Viola mumbled from where she sat pouting.

"You don't smell that bad at all. Definitely not any worse than you usually do after a game," Olivia joked, and it was true. Viola smelled like grass and fog after a rainfall and whatever lotion she uses to moisturize. And the distinct metallic smell of blood.

* * *

Viola scoffed at that, and she rummaged through the medical kit that was left behind. She was ordered to take it back into the field house when she was finished, but she didn't know where the heck it was supposed to go. By now, most had cleared off the field, so not many people were around to ask either.

Not heading her words, Viola felt Olivia approach and sit right next to her. She quietly rejoiced when she felt the blonde's jean-clad thigh brush her skin.

"You really did it this time," Olivia said.

"Um, I think you meant that jerk face really did it this time. Who knew the only requirement for Arden soccer was to be semi-decent at the game and a big fat asshole to compensate," Viola ripped some packaging open with more force than necessary, as she grumbled, "Cheaters..."

But when Viola looked up from the cleaning wipes, she lost a bit of motor function. She was being checked over by kind, nurturing eyes. Viola didn't have any other injuries, just scrapes and bruises, but Olivia's eyes roamed like a touch. In response, Viola felt her entire body soften, no longer stricken with adrenalin. 

(Completely at the blonde's mercy.)

"I'm fine, Olivia, really. It's just a little bump," aid kit forgotten, Viola adjusted her ponytail to give her hands something to do. 

"Oh, _Viola,_ " Olivia chastised. Viola didn't know what she was being chastised for but grinned stupidly at how Olivia had said it. Mirth danced behind blue eyes and chapped lips, voice as soft as her eyes at her name. _(Vi-o-la)_

That didn't last long before she was saying, "ow!" at how her nose _hurt_. Damnit, she hoped her money-maker wasn't too damaged by that cheating asshole. 

It was only when she tasted blood did she understand, but Olivia had already taken the cloth from her slack hand that wasn't trying to see if her nose was the same shape. Olivia took her left cheek, encouraging it to turn towards her and kept her steady. It still managed to surprise Viola, and her face flashed red hot. She probably looked at Olivia like a scared little animal. Olivia was kind enough to not mention any of it.

Her face was cleaned with tender, caring strokes. Viola could have cried by the end of it for so many reasons.

"You don't have to do this, Liv," Viola found herself saying.

"Do what?" A line appeared between Olivia's eyebrows, but she didn't stop her work.

Viola searched for her answer in the clouds. "Like..." Her eyes blinked.

They fell back on the girl so close to her. Olivia smiled at their return.

Viola looked at her lips and thought of Duke. "You ruined my plans to sulk. We had a bad game. I had a bad game. I was going to sulk until I got over myself, but now all I feel is good."

"And that's bad? The blonde tried to tease, but Viola just shook her head. Her nose knocked against Olivia's fingers, and she hissed at the pain.

She jerked back and held the tender bridge of her nose.

"Hey, hey," Olivia soothed, "God, I hope that dick didn't break it-"

Something twisted in Viola's gut at the tenderness the blonde was showing her. Thoughts of Duke flashed in mind. Without even thinking, she drew back more and found her voice raised in a frightened pitch, "Stop."

Analytical blue eyes steadily met her own. 

"I didn't need help! So- so stop with your perfect voice and perfect, perfect eyes! And, and," Viola gestured haphazardly to Olivia's everything.   
  
Olivia grabbed one of the flailing hands and slid their palms together.

"Why?"

That left Viola sputtering, unsure as to what garnered such a calm response from the other girl.

"Why?" She asked again, "So it's easier to pretend that this isn't happening?"

Viola's eyes ballooned. A shiver ran up her spine from the cold taking advantage of her sweat-soaked body. The only warmth came from their connected hands.

"Olivia," Viola's eyes left her for the first time, seeing no one watching them. But that didn't mean that there wasn't someone near.

"I know you've been avoiding me. I can't say I blame you," Olivia's confidence wavered and she suddenly looked at scared as Viola felt. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm having a hard time too, Viola. We're experiencing the same thing." She looked down, and Viola could only see her eyelashes- stark against her skin. 

She looked at this girl and couldn't believe what was happening. They were out here on the soccer pitch. No drinks, no distractions. Just the whistle of wind, and Olivia Lennox admitting something to her that-part of Viola had been convinced-Olivia would never bring to light. 

"You- " Viola went with a part of her gut that protects, "What makes you think we're experiencing the same thing?" she challenged.

Olivia stayed silent for a while, and Viola realized that she'd focused on their still entwined hands. Viola twitched like she might let go now that she'd been caught, but didn't.

Her stare was piercing when she looked again into Viola's eyes. Viola was so intimidated by the intensity of Olivia's unhidden desire, she couldn't even begin to swallow the baseball forming in her throat. 

And then Olivia kissed her.

Right there on a metal bench on the side of an empty field, Olivia leaned over and bestowed a kiss upon her lips. With them both sitting on the bench, their height difference wasn't much of a factor and Olivia's other hand easily found her cheek. Olivia's cold nose brushed against the side of her own nose and then pressed against her cheek, but her lips were warm and incredibly soft. It was a tender gesture, a squeeze of the hand, adding to the flurry of sensations Viola was already experiencing. It was entirely different from their first kiss, and Viola felt her palms sweat and her heart beat wildly in her chest for completely different reasons.

Geez, kissing guys never involved such intense, heart attack-y feelings. Or maybe that was just Olivia?

Viola kept with the pace Olivia set, and found herself getting completely lost in it until the velvety, supple lips eased off her own, Olivia didn't move entirely away. She breathed a shaky sigh onto Viola's skin, and they both hovered with their eyes closed, the potential for more a hairsbreadth away. Viola could not even focus, her heart pounding at an alarming rate.

"I know we are," Olivia whispered. Her bottom lip dragged against Viola's own.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Viola tried to pick out one thought from the overwhelming amount in her head, but when she finally decided she just wanted to _feel_ , Olivia's face was no longer close enough to bridge the space. 

Viola opened her eyes, already bracing to feel hurt, but instead saw Olivia's brow furrowed as she wiped at her face.

"Wha-?" When Olivia's hand pulled back there was a red stain above and on her lips. Viola's hand shot up to her own nose. Unsurprisingly, her nose was wet again, and oh god, she'd bled _on_ Olivia Lennox. Gross.

"Well that's a first," Viola mumbled to herself, going crosseyed to stare at the blood on her fingers.

In there corner of her eye, Olivia was cleaning her face with a wet wipe grumbling about Hastings and "I'm not even surprised anymore"'s. She then twisted her body back around to wipe Viola's face too, this time with less care. Viola sputtered and laughed at the harsh assault on her face. It reminded her of when she was a kid and would get bloody noses all the time from falling out of a tree or knocking her nose during an aggressive game of Freeze Tag. Many a time, Daphne Hastings would gasp at the sight, lick her handkerchief and clean her face frustratedly, snapping at Viola to keep still. 

"You," Olivia grit through her teeth as Viola kept laughing and jerking away reflexively, "Are," Viola squeezed her eyes shut and submitted, "Such a mess."

"I'm sorry, that was gross," Viola frowns to show her sincerity, even though it's possible Olivia wasn't looking at her expression, "And totally a mood killer," she adds after a beat.

"No, it's fine," Olivia's voice was kind, and true to her word, she didn't sound bothered.

No words were exchanged for a few more seconds, but then Viola felt cold fingers wrap around hers and lifted up to her nose. "Hold this here."

"Yes, ma'am."

She opened her eyes and gave a sheepish smile, but Olivia just rolled her eyes, not having any of it. They stayed there in a somewhat awkward silence. Her fingers flexed on the wad of wipes under her nose as she cautiously looked anywhere but at the blonde beside her.

"Anyway," Olivia drawled, and they both chuckled at the attempt at a transition. The air felt less heavy between the two of them, and Viola felt thankful for it.

"I-" Olivia took a deep, stabilizing breathe, "I don't want to rush you. I want us to be at a place we can be honest. I need you to talk to me, Viola," Olivia implored, and Viola could tell just by how she said it that it was something the girl desperately needed from her.

And for that alone, Viola found herself nodding.

"I like you," Olivia said and Viola blinked, " A lot. I think I always d-did. And I don't think it's going away, so.."

Olivia looked less sure now, blue eyes flitting between hers helplessly, searching for guidance.

Feeling woefully unprepared for the admittance, Viola's mind went blank. However, she still wanted to remedy the scared look on Olivia's face and reward her for such bravery with a dose of her own.

"I-" The words get stuck in her mouth, like she just ate a jar of honey. "I think-"

She reached up with her free hand to coil it around Olivia's warm neck, thumb brushing the underside of her jaw. "I think me too."

The spark of hope seemed to die down in Olivia's eyes and her shoulders sagged a little bit. Viola gripped her neck harder, and tried to get the nauseous feeling in her stomach to stop.

"I'm going to work on it, Olivia. I will. I- um, want to be honest, too. Once I, y'know..process," she cursed internally and tried to convey what she was feeling through their shared gaze. Her thumb stroked Olivia's cheek tenderly, unconsciously. 

She must have succeeded, because the defeated demeanor was slowly replaced with a breathtaking smile, and Viola wondered, not for the first time, how she'd found herself making such promises to a girl like Olivia. Had this- this adoration snuck up on her or were there signs all along. Had it snuck up on Olivia? 

_( "I'm having a hard time too, Viola. We're experiencing the same thing."_ ) 

Olivia eventually stood up, breaking their connection. Viola couldn't help the wistful way she watched her; the kiss was still at the forefront of her mind.

(She didn't think it would leave anytime soon.)

Olivia sucked in a deep breathe, smiled, and started putting away the supplies.

"Come on. You'll catch pneumonia if you stay out here any longer in your sweaty uniform," Olivia looked mildly disturbed by the idea, and Viola couldn't help but grin at that.

She happily did as ordered, eager to spend the whole walk back to the field house with Olivia beside her. Maybe she could even charm her way into a late lunch at Cesario's pizzeria after she got changed- just the two of them.

"I have to go," Olivia's voice broke through her plan-making. Viola's face dropped and she watched as Olivia pointed over her shoulder towards the parking lot.

"Oh." 

"You know my mother."

Viola pulled a face at the mention of Mrs. Lennox that made Olivia laugh.

"Yeah, you should probably hurry then," Viola playfully pushed the girl away from her and towards the parking lot.

As they parted ways, Viola was the one to stare after her. And then walk a little. Turn back. Stare after her again. Repeat. And if she thought her chest couldn't have felt more full, she noticed her name at the back of Olivia's sweatshirt, recognizing it finally as her own. She hadn't even realized that Olivia hadn't given it back last time she came over to her house.

When she could no longer see shimmering blonde hair, she sighed and picked up the rest of her gear and the kit (neatly packed by Olivia). Her fingers lifted up to lips, but she didn't touch them in fear it would stop the buzzing that hadn't stopped since Olivia had kissed her.

 _Olivia had kissed her! Olivia_ liked _her._

A laugh bubbled up to her lips as her whole body felt like it would float off into the air all the way to the field house. She twirled and ran, laughing at how the inertia of her heavy bag allowed her spin around. Sebastian would _so_ be making fun of her right now.

She entered the building, only to breeze past some of her teammates who looked at her like she was absolutely nuts. There was a pressure in her lungs that felt dangerously like she would laugh louder or yell something. Something like, "Olivia Lennox just freaking kissed me! All you suckers don't even know that you're wasting your breathe because she _likes me!_ "

That was, until she realized that would be a very unwise thing to do, and that stopped her little private pride party by the fact that she'd been dangerously close to doing so. She'd never had the best impulse control; Olivia made her need to stop and actively keep herself in check.

(It was literally just yesterday when she'd overheard a midfielder- Ryan- talking about Olivia- in a rather vulgar way Viola did not condone. Duke had shut him up, but Viola had been right behind him ready to give him a talking to.)

She wasn't sure if she liked the feeling or not. 

Lost in her own world, Viola failed to notice how all players cleared out before she'd even packed her cleats.

On top of that, she still didn't even know where the stupid first aid kit was supposed to go. 

_"Olivia would've probably been able to figure it out,"_ she thought to herself glumly, dragging her feet to she showers, trying-and failing-to keep her mind from the blonde debutante.


	9. Drama Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things:
> 
> 1) We're back with more Viola's POV.  
> 2) This chapter is really dense, but bare with me. Lots of flashbacks too.  
> 3) I have this unquenchable need to develop Olivia's character beyond what the movie provided. I hope there are others who share this need, but if it isn't your cup of tea, let me know! I won't be offended, promise.
> 
> Disclaimer: brief insinuation of the death of a sibling

She had tried to keep up her promise to Olivia to talk to her. She really did. But with each passing day, she’d see Olivia from afar and chicken out. 

She did try to uphold one part of the promise, though. Instead of burying her thoughts and feelings, she actively indulged in them. Instead of wrapping herself around Duke, she distanced herself from him, which he hadn't seemed to mind since he was still upset with her about what happened at the party. 

She didn’t avoid Olivia, though, at least not in her thoughts.

Noticing her from a distance, Olivia was always surrounded by so many chatting girls; her hair and clothes always immaculate, her disposition contained and subdued. There was an air that followed Olivia everywhere, and one could almost taste it when in her presence. It was the same aura that Viola would imagine someone of royal blood would carry, and it could be slightly intimidating.

In fact, a lot of the time she felt like the court jester in Olivia's presence, going along with her own analogy.

It just didn’t make sense to her. Ever since Viola met her, Olivia regarded her in such a way that shattered any illusion of unattainability, and Viola didn’t particularly know what to do with Olivia’s enthusiasm. Why would Olivia want to give up what she had- how could she be so ready to do so? Because it would be ignorant of Olivia to think that things wouldn’t change if they were to..become something more than friends.

_(She makes an exaggerated sound of satisfaction upon finding the jar of Skippy peanut butter sitting prettily in the Lennox kitchen pantry._

_Olivia laughs and swats at her arm in response, the two of them giggling and scuffling around the kitchen. They keep colliding into each other like a pair of magnets, and Olivia’s perfume had invaded Viola's senses for the past ten minutes, making her feel punch drunk._

_In fact, she was barely aware enough of her surroundings to smell the cigar smoke and hear the news droning on in the connecting living room- something about rising oil prices due to the economic effects of Hurricane Catalina. Katrina?_

_She knows Olivia’s father is in there, sitting on one of the plush white chaise sofas with his legs crossed at the ankle, shiny Oxfords smudging the surface of the crystal coffee table. Olivia had given him a sparkling greeting when they’d stumbled into the house. He’d given a very blasé response that had Viola shifting awkwardly, but Olivia didn't seem fazed in the slightest._

_Mr. Lennox was a tall, well-groomed man with a full head of blonde, nearly white hair. He had hard blue eyes that_ would _be quite beautiful if they weren't always half shut in a scowling squint. The only time Viola had ever seen them soften where those times when he looked at Olivia, watching his daughter chatter brightly or dote on him like her training conditioned. His eyes closely resembled Olivia's more that way. Maybe if they were always that kind, Viola could speak to him more comfortably. As it was, Viola didn’t bother saying hello, knowing by now that Mr. Lennox didn’t prescribe her engagement, unlike Mrs. Lennox, who’s favorite hobby was to unveil Viola’s poor cotillion skills._

_“Viola, give me some!” Olivia leaned even more to grab the jar being waved away from her, and her laughing breathe hit the side of Viola’s face deliciously. Olivia just kept getting closer and more worked up, making her want to tease the blonde even more._

_"Nuh-uh, apparently this is a precious commodity in this kitchen. What have you got to repay me?"_

_Olivia huffed, putting her hands on her hips then, and looking very unimpressed with her. "Why would I have to repay you if you got it from me!"_

_"Don't blame me, honey, that's the capitalist machine for ya."_

_As expected, Olivia scoffed again and grabbed for the jar. Viola was about to give it to her, but then Olivia locked eyes with her, sharing a burning stare that served its purpose because that stare always unnerved Viola beyond cognitive thought. Olivia knew it, too, because it was always followed with a pleased curl of her lips._

**_“The state of California Legislature passes a bill by twenty-one to fifteen in the Senate, forty-one to thirty-five in the Assembly to legalize same-sex marriage, becoming the first state legislature in the U.S. to do so without judicial prompting-“_ **

_“Liberal hippies. 'Authority to override' absolutely preposterous. What in God's name do we have the U.S. Constitution for if they can get away with breaking federal law.” Mr. Lennox’s suddenly resentful tone draws the girl’s attention away from each other. He wasn't speaking particularly loud, but it cut through any other noise in the rooms._

_“Same-sex marriage-" he scoffed and put out his cigar. Gracefully unfolding his long legs, he got to his feet; he was clearly done hearing about the news for the day. Even though he was turned away, Viola could imagine the sneer curled around his lips. (She didn't like thinking that maybe it was the same as Olivia's as well.) "If it were up to_ them _, I’d be able to legally marry a monkey next month.”_

_Olivia’s thighs, which had been pressed flush against the side of Viola’s turned body, abandon their position. Her fingers curl into fists in front of her on the marble countertop, and Viola doesn't know what to do. It’s as if someone had suddenly flipped the magnets' poles, and now their bodies evaded one another._

_Olivia's father leaves into another section of the house with a stack of mail in his hand, but not before draining his coffee cup in the sink. It leaves him close to the two of them, and he finally takes notice of them by kissing Olivia's forehead and giving Viola a curious look. Viola quickly gives him one of her (hopefully) nicest fake smiles._

_"Hello, girls," he acknowledges, not unpleasantly. Before she knows it, he's gone and Olivia is still looking down at her hands. There's a definitive pause where neither of them said a word despite something moving over them. Viola slides the peanut butter to her, but Olivia just puts the top back on and claims she isn't hungry, actually.)_

But the more Viola watched from afar, _actually_ paid attention to every move and gesture of Olivia Lennox, the more she saw what she’d been missing. Every time she’d glare at Olivia during debutante brunches, she’d miss how the blonde’s smile was too purposeful, too put-on to ever be a real smile. Everything that ever irked her about Olivia’s future-housewife-of-a-rich-Republican act all those months ago was suddenly flipped on it's head. Olivia may be _good_ at playing her part, but she wasn't satisfied at all.

Now, Viola couldn’t go back to ignoring the lack of authenticity in Olivia's smile and the painful stretch of her lips. 

Especially when Olivia caught her eye, and suddenly the ill-fitting mask melted off like snowflakes to a warm cheek. 

Viola realized something jarring. She's never seen Olivia as disarmed with anyone, not even her brother. She’d never seen Olivia have such a childlike trust with..well, anyone.

_(“You're the first guy at school who hasn't tried anything with me."_

_"Trust me, you're not my type.”_

_“Well, why not?” Viola quickly looks up at that response to find Olivia’s brightly lit expression now closed off into something more ill at ease._

_When before she must have been on her tippy toes, leaning closer into their conversation, closer in towards Viola(then Sebastian), she lowered herself back down._

_“You know, it's just…” Viola thought of the awkwardness of the situation if Olivia only knew her true gender. She'd surely be embarrassed, “…I don't think of you in that way. We're friends, you know.”_

_Olivia looks at her in that same intense way she always had, seemingly taking in what she’d just been told._

_The silence lets Viola’s mind get away from her, “You're actually one of the few people here that I feel comfortable around.”_

_“I feel the same way about you.” She says it reverently, eyes steady and faithful on hers. Viola doesn’t realize. )_

Olivia always looks at Viola like she wants to give everything to her all at once and receive whatever Viola gives her in the same second. Viola hadn't ever imagined that another girl would look at her in such a way. Had figured it was just her disguise as a man that'd made Olivia act in such a way, but the looks hadn't gone away at all when the crossdressing was months behind them. Perhaps, for a while, Olivia had tried to not look at her in that way.

_(“I’m just glad you’re here,” Olivia lets out in a rush, flattening her palm against the material of her dress for the fortieth time. “I’ve never brought anyone to one of these before. I honestly never thought of bringing anyone. I’m sure this is not how you want to spend your Sunday, and I’m sure Mother isn’t keen on anyone outside of the family attending, but I mean, she can't really say anything about me bringing you…”_

_In a dress of her own, Viola reaches out to take one of her hands before it can perform the soothing gesture again._

_“You’re okay, Liv. ” Viola gives the gentlest smile she’s ever given to the girl beside her. Begging eyes drink in the sureness she provides. “Thank you for asking me to come.”_

_They stand at the outskirts of the cemetery as the rest of the patrons, most older and finely dressed, mosey over to the leading commemorative service. Twelve yards away, the headstone of one “Curtis Lennox” lay, awaiting his sister’s arrival, now with one other.)_

Olivia who, two classes ago, had scribbled “ _I want to kiss you_ ” on Viola’s open lab notebook and looked at her like she knew Viola would instantly flush upon reading it. Viola, of course, hadn’t been able to keep still the whole class and stuttered whenever they locked eyes. Before class ended, Olivia had carefully knocked their hands together during one of their many heated stares. It took just a simple tilt of her hand, but Viola’s breathe absolutely caught, and the bell saved her from having a damn heatstroke right there in Chem class.

Unfortunately for her sanity, Olivia had promptly manhandled her into the nearest girl's restroom to make do on her wish. She'd kissed her so well behind the stalls that Viola wasn't sure if the heat in her belly would ever cool.

(It was embarrassing what Olivia could make her feel like by doing next to nothing compared to her string of ex-boyfriends and flings. Sure she’d had erotic experiences before, but not so layered as this. Nothing like this.)

In fact, every time she remembered the little note was still in her notebook, inside her bag, she got an extra spring in her step.

“You’re happy for someone who looks like they got into a fight with Jackie Chan.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Hello to you too, Maria.” Viola quipped, mood not deterred from the girl’s appearance.

“Uh-huh,” the shorter brunette snickered back.

“Whatever, you should see the other guy.”

“From what I saw, he left completely unscathed.”

“Yeah, well, I meant you should see him because he’s pathetic and has the face of a cheater,” Viola griped.

Maria rolled her eyes and laughed at her, but Viola expected no more. They kept walking for a while towards their shared English class.

“Your nose doesn’t look too hot.” Maria had a proficient skill in stating the obvious. “So it wasn’t broken, then?”

There was deep discoloration under her eyes because of her nose injury, and the actual bridge was slightly swollen and cut deep purple. She’d wanted to cover it with concealer, but the doc had told her that was a no-no until later in the healing process.

“No, just a fracture.”

She then found herself smiling and blushing, remembering how Olivia had offhandedly said it looked hot when she’d first saw her the morning after the game.

(“Oliviaa. Stop looking. I know you keep looking at it; I see your eyes move.”

“It’s really not that bad, Viola. In fact, there’s something appealing about it.”)

“What are you smiling about? God, you all have been acting weird lately. I don’t remember what a normal day at Illyria looks like anymore.”

“You're such a Drama Queen.”

"Oh, that is rich. Look who's talking. The Queen herself thou which brings the drama," Maria drawls, "You have a main character complex, Viola, don't even try me."

Viola's jaw drops open, but she really shouldn't be so shocked. Maria's got a sharp tongue.

Although, maybe she was on to something. Perhaps Viola had been looking at it wrong- thinking of herself as the court jester and Olivia the Queen. 

"Maybe I am a Queen too," Viola whispered.

Maria looked at her weird, but just shook her head as if to say, "I'm not even going to go there".

And that was the end of it. Because as long as no crazy crossdressing scenario was happening at Illyria, all was normal. As long as Olivia Lennox wasn’t suddenly getting kissed by Duke Orsino’s girlfriend at parties or kissing girls in the bathroom next to Chem Lab, all was on track.

With everything that had become clear in the past couple of days, a very clear, very big wall still stood in front of them.

For so long, she’d been trying to avoid this feeling of repression. She _hated_ feeling confined, but she couldn’t see how she and Olivia could exist without the shackles of public opinion. Family opinion. It was terrifying.

But.

Olivia had said she wanted them to communicate. Wanted them to figure it out together. Viola knew she was ready when remembering this fact gave her a great deal of comfort, and suddenly the lonely, imprisoned feeling eased up on her throat. She thought of Olivia caring enough about her to want to try to be something more, and she could suddenly breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a couple months after She’s the Man ends. I wrote this a few years ago and just recently decided to finally finish it? It needed a lot of editing, and who knows if the new material towards the second half even meshes with the first half, but oh well. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Also, disclaimer: there is mention of low rise jeans. This movie was made in the early 2000’s, people. We’re trying to be historically accurate here.
> 
> You can follow my  
> tumblr: jumbled-juliet  
> twitter: stelliejar


End file.
